The Gang Gets Famous
by quirky cricket
Summary: After having graduated from high school, the kids' senior trip brings them to the glitz and glamor of Los Angeles to seek fame, fortune, and general good times.
1. chapter 1

**in the city of l.a.**

**12:10 p.m.**

**On a Friday**

Carlos adjusted his shiny aviator sunglasses in what he could make out of his reflection and tried different facial expressions to make sure he looked as cool as possible. He grinned. He didn't call this pair his "movie star glasses" for nothing. Phoebe had compiled a mix of songs about L.A.

"Beverly Hills – rollin' like a celebrity, livin' in Beverly Hills," He sang softly.

"Did you sign up for college orientation?" Keesha asked, breaking the relative silence.

"College is for losers who aren't famous." Carlos retorted, trying to get a good look at himself in the window of Phoebe's old van. Carlos, Keesha, Wanda, Phoebe, and Dorothy Ann were taking the van on the three hour trip to Los Angeles for a long weekend at one of Arnold's relative's Redondo Beach condo. Arnold, Ralphie, and Tim were in Tim's aunt's convertible. "Why couldn't I ride in the convertible?" Carlos pouted. "I'm going to make my debut in a – POS van."

"At least it's running." Phoebe said. "And we just got new wood paneling."

"The wood paneling's the lamest part." Carlos whined. "Oh well. I'll be discovered despite all of this."

"How are you going to manage that?" Keesha asked.

"I have my ways." Carlos didn't really have any ways, but he'd heard a rumor or two.

"I bet I can get discovered before you." Wanda challenged. "I'm cuter, more talented, and more … better than you."

"What are you betting?" Carlos asked.

"Um… fifty bucks?" Wanda thought aloud.

"You're on." Carlos shook her hand.

"I get the pot if neither of you are discovered." Keesha negotiated.

"Just wait 'til we get to Hollywood and I've got babes falling all over me because I'm so famous," Carlos daydreamed.

"You're not famous." Wanda said flatly. "Are we there yet?" She whined.

"Can you see the air?" Phoebe asked from the driver's seat.

"Um, no." Wanda furrowed her eyebrows.

"Air is invisible." Dorothy Ann added.

"Then we aren't in L.A. yet." Phoebe giggled.

"But we've been in the car forever!" Wanda whined.

"Maybe two hours." Keesha rolled her eyes. "Have you seen the guys?" She asked. Carlos tried not to hate the fact that he was stuck in a van full of estrogen, something he normally would have enjoyed, but he was being lumped into the group with "the girls," and it stung to think of "the guys" without Carlos, the loveable imp.

"No," Phoebe sounded concerned. "I hope they're okay."

* * *

"Dude, this is AWESOME!" Ralphie exclaimed as the three sped southbound on Highway 101 in a brand new silver 2005 Saab 9-3 convertible with the top down (of course). They had managed to stop cruising around Walkerville an hour ago, then had to cruise through Pismo Beach, then Grover Beach before they could even think of getting on the highway toward Los Angeles.

"We should totally stop in Santa Barbara." Arnold suggested. "I think I'll be hungry by the time we get there."

"At this rate, we'll be in Santa Barbara by sunset." Tim glanced over at him.

"Okay, we might have to stop before then." Arnold grinned.

* * *

**half an hour later**

"They're not answering." Dorothy Ann sighed then began talking to Arnold's voice mail. "Arnold, it's the rest of us. We're going to be at the In-n-Out Burger in Van Nuys in half an hour and we wanted to meet up with you guys for lunch. Call me when you get this. Bye." She hit the "end" button on her phone.

"Maybe they'll call back and give you a buzz," Carlos raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You know, if you put it-"

"Shut UP, Carlos," Dorothy Ann interrupted him by hitting him hard on the arm. "Don't be lewd."

"I so wish I was with the guys…" Carlos lamented. "Then I could say this kind of stuff, no one would hit me, and I'd be cruising down 101 with the wind in my hair…" Although the convertible could seat four, Carlos had been denied a seat, apparently because the luggage wouldn't all fit in the trunk. Carlos blamed Arnold's hair products. He'd been okay with going with the girls at first. He wouldn't have any competition for the girls' attention. Unfortunately, they weren't as interested in him as he'd hoped. In fact, they didn't seem to care about guys much at all – they just wanted to go to L.A. Carlos wondered if they'd actually hit puberty or had sex drives at all.

* * *

"We're making great time!" Tim commented as the guys drove past Santa Maria without cruising much. The girls had been calling, so they figured they didn't have too long to dawdle.

"Yeah, it usually takes about 25 minutes to get from Grover Beach to Santa Maria," Ralphie slowed down.

"It took us 20." Arnold rationalized. "And we're not stopping for anything this time."

"Besides, we don't know anyone in Santa Maria that we needed to go visit in the car." Ralphie added.

"Exactly." Tim nodded.

"My phone is ringing again!" Arnold complained. "That's the problem with putting all the girls together – they become like one giant clingy girlfriend."

"Carlos is part of the Big Girlfriend," Tim laughed.

"Dang, now the Big Girlfriend is ugly." Ralphie added. "Arnold should be part of the Girlfriend to boost her looks."

"Are you saying he's prettier than all the girls?" Tim asked.

"I am," Arnold patted his curly hair. "Prettier than all of them combined."

"And so modest about it." Ralphie added.

"So modest." Tim echoed.

* * *

**an hour later**

As guys arrived in Santa Barbara, the girls and Carlos gave up waiting. They devoured their fast food after having been made to wait for an hour in the restaurant for their friends to either call or show up. Wanda was getting increasingly testy as she went without food, so they'd finally caved. Just as Carlos ate the last onion ring that was left, Dorothy Ann's phone rang in a quick rendition of "Fur Elise."

"Where are you?" D.A. asked quickly.

"Uh…" Tim started. "We're almost there." Arnold and Ralphie cringed. They were about halfway to Los Angeles.

"Almost where?" D.A. pressed.

"Almost to L.A." Tim replied. "Sorry, we couldn't hear the phone over the wind."

"We waited for you guys before we ate!" D.A. started, but Keesha grabbed the phone from her.

"Where_are_ you?" She demanded.

"Um…" Tim passed the phone to Arnold.

"Hi!" Arnold said cheerily. "We're almost there."

"Okay, two things." Keesha said firmly.

"Shoot." Arnold was still chipper. The wind in his hair was definitely a good thing, as was the prospect of picking up some college girls in Santa Barbara.

"First of all, you're not handing the phone to anyone until I'm done talking, okay?" Keesha was on the verge of being incredibly irate.

"Sure thing." Arnold grinned.

"Secondly, no vague answers. Where are you?" Keesha demanded.

"We're really close." Arnold replied without thinking.

"Give me a city name." Keesha insisted.

"Uh," Arnold started.

"Don't you dare pass the phone, Arnold." Keesha interrupted his train of thought.

Arnold was trapped. He was trying to think of a city closer to L.A. than Santa Barbara, but all he could think of was San Francisco, San Diego, and… "Compton. We're in Compton." Ralphie and Tim looked at him, puzzled. After a few noises of acquiescence, Arnold closed the phone quickly. "They're going to be there in 45 minutes. How fast does this sucker go?"

* * *

"I thought the condo was in Redondo Beach," Phoebe said meekly. "Why Compton?"

"I didn't ask." Keesha rolled her eyes. "It took me forever to beat out of them where they were."

"Good thing it's before night," Dorothy Ann said nervously.

"Why?" Carlos asked.

"I hate being in unfamiliar places in the dark," D.A. replied quickly.

"I'll protect you," Carlos tried to put his arm around her.

"Ew!" D.A. flinched. "Don't touch me!"

"Okay, did he say where in Compton they are?" Phoebe looked around nervously.

"I knew I forgot to ask something…" Keesha grabbed the phone and dialed. "No one's answering…"

"I guess we'll just have to look for them." Dorothy Ann swallowed hard.

"Lock the doors, Phoebe! There are bad people out there!" Wanda panicked.

"Bad people?" Keesha raised her eyebrows.

"You know, the ones in the gangsta rap songs," D.A. said nervously.

"You listen to gangsta rap?" Carlos was incredulous.

"No, but I've heard about it. Turn around, Phoebe!" D.A. urged.

"I'm trying!" Phoebe was getting anxious. "I don't want to get lost!"

"Hurry or they'll get us!" Wanda screamed.

"Who?" Keesha asked again.

"The bad people!" Wanda repeated, then motioned to a group of people on a corner. "THEM!"

"The blacks and the Hispanics?" Keesha raised an eyebrow and looked at Carlos, who was looking seriously at Wanda.

"I – yes – no?" Wanda stuttered. "Let's just get out of here!"

"Don't point at them, Wanda, you'll make them mad!" D.A. cried.

"Not all blacks are drug dealers," Keesha tried.

"We're in L.A., what else do they do?" Wanda shrieked. "Crack?"

"Um, they star in movies?" Keesha replied. "Stop being so racist, let's look for the guys."

"I think I see them!" Carlos pointed straight ahead at a convertible, which they began to follow.

* * *

"Why do you think they keep calling?" Arnold shouted nervously.

"Shut up, Arnold, I'm hauling ass and I need to concentrate." Tim was going about 95 miles per hour down the highway and was very serious in his request.

"Just say your phone was out of service or something!" Ralphie suggested.

"Good idea," Arnold said and turned up the stereo so they could rock out more properly. Phoebe had burned the mix of songs about L.A. to a pair of CDs for the guys in the convertible. She was sweet that way. It almost made Arnold feel bad about wanting to cruise UCSB to pick up freshmen – almost. "California Dreamin'" came on. "Yuck," Arnold shook his head. "Why is this even on here? We _live_ in California."

"Because it mentions L.A.," Ralphie answered. "I think it's a good opener." Arnold hit the "next" button.

"Track five!" Tim requested. Arnold complied and Tim cranked up the volume as "California Love" blared out of the speakers.

"Sweet," Arnold nodded, bobbing his head to the beat. Tim and Ralphie followed suit. There was nothing cooler than three 18 year-olds rocking out in a convertible to classic rap.

"This is going to be the best weekend ever." Ralphie mused.

"That was pretty slick of me to tell them we're in Compton, huh?" Arnold laughed.

"Totally." Tim concurred. "West side is the best side," he nodded, paraphrasing the lyrics.

"I'd love to see them in Compton," Ralphie ran his fingers through his hair. "I bet Phoebe wouldn't last ten seconds."

"I think they'd leave her alone – she obviously doesn't belong." Arnold thought aloud.

"She's like a sign that says 'look at me,'" Tim concurred. "It's Keesha lasting in Compton that I think would be interesting."

"Keesha would definitely stab someone." Ralphie nodded.

"She'd stab several people." Arnold added.

"She's not dumb – she'd be shooting people left and right." Tim argued. "It's Wanda who'd bring a knife to a gunfight."

"While D.A.'s saying, 'According to my research, Compton is a dangerous place!'" Ralphie mimicked her voice as best as he could while having to practically shout to be heard.

"She doesn't say that anymore." Arnold countered. "She probably already knows anyway."

"She'd probably end up being someone's ho." Tim looked at Arnold quickly to gauge his reaction.

"And Carlos…" Arnold changed the subject. "Carlos would pretend like he got involved in a gang fight and made it out alive, so he could tell us, but he'd really be hiding under the backseat of the van."

"Definitely!" Ralphie laughed heartily. The conversation lulled, leaving the boys to listen to the mix Phoebe had prepared for them. The relative silence lasted until they were nearing Highway 405, which was still half an hour away from where they said they'd be.

"Oh shit," Tim said under his breath, his sentiment echoed by the other guys in the car as red and blue lights flashed behind them. He took a deep breath and started to slow down, not daring to look at his speedometer.

* * *

"Did you try texting?" Wanda asked.

"Of course I did!" Dorothy Ann snapped. "I've tried everything, including sending them a picture of some scary people so they know I'm dead serious and I need help."

"Just checking." Wanda discreetly started text messaging.

"I ALREADY DID THAT!" Dorothy Ann shouted.

"Please stop yelling," Phoebe whimpered.

"Don't yell, you're making Phoebe nervous!" Keesha yelled. Phoebe whimpered quietly.

"Maybe they meant West Compton?" Carlos suggested. "Or East Compton?"

"I don't know where we are anymore." Phoebe whined.

"Yeah, after we scared that middle-aged trophy wife in the convertible by following her for ten minutes, I don't think any of us know where we are, Carlos," Keesha said, her voice stinging.

"Her hair was fluffy like Arnold's." Carlos rationalized. "I think I can find our way out of here."

"Oh great, Captain Carlos has come to save the day." D.A. rolled her eyes.

* * *

"Where in Compton did you say we were?" Tim asked Arnold as they tried to divert their minds from the $500 ticket for going 98 mph in a 70 mph zone. Tim hoped that they'd have an awesome time – something would have to distract him from the possibility that his aunt would have his hide. At least they were only about half an hour away from Compton and finding out what hilarity had ensued in their hour-long absence.

"I don't know, I just said Compton because Wanda made me listen to rap all this week." Arnold shrugged.

"Ooh, what were you doing with Wanda?" Ralphie taunted.

"LISTENING TO RAP, IDIOT." Arnold shouted.

"Why don't we call and tell them the truth?" Tim suggested, carefully checking his speedometer.

"Because they'll kill us." Ralphie replied. "Too bad we can't keep hauling ass."

"They'll kill us if they find out we were taking bets on what they'd do, as well as lying about where we were." Arnold added.

"Carlos is already going to kill us because he's not with us." Tim said.

"Let's do an experiment." Arnold suggested. "Let's let you be in charge of who rides in the convertible, and see how hard all the girls flirt with you." He said to Tim, who smiled and nodded.

"Good idea!" Ralphie pitched in.

"I bet Carlos is the first one trying to kiss my feet." Tim laughed. "I'm in."

* * *

"I'm getting scared." Phoebe said meekly. It was late afternoon, and she wanted to get to the relative safety of the condo. "Will you call the guys again?"

"What am I, chopped liver?" Carlos folded his arms.

"You're with the girls." Keesha reminded him. "It's just easier to say 'the guys' than 'Tim, Arnold, and Ralphie.'"

"I know." Carlos sighed.

"And a lot nicer than 'the cool guys.'" Phoebe teased.

"I'm cool!" Carlos argued.

"You certainly try." Phoebe acquiesced.

"Arnold! Where the hell are you guys? Why haven't you answered my texts or calls? Did you see the pictures of the scary people?" Dorothy Ann babbled into her phone, panicked.

"Uh, my phone was out of service. We got stuck in some – I mean we got pulled over, so we're running a bit behind." Arnold explained, trying to control the shaking in his voice. He was a bad liar in situations like this. Something like quickly saying he was somewhere he wasn't was much easier than coming up with reasons and rationales.

"You were pulled over for an hour?" Dorothy Ann exclaimed. Keesha raised her eyebrows skeptically. "What happened? Were you in an accident or something?"

"No, we just got a nice lecture about – um, speeding. Because you know how boys are. Boys in sports cars. We're really bad." Arnold managed. Tim shook his head. "We speed a lot. Speeding is fun."

"Why did we let Arnold do the talking?" Tim asked. Ralphie shrugged, knowing he'd be just as bad or worse.

"Can you meet us in Redondo?" Arnold changed the subject, glaring at the two others.

"Can we meet them in Redondo Beach?" D.A. asked.

"Sure!" Carlos answered.

"I'm still lost!" Phoebe whimpered. "I'm at – 154th and Crenshaw."

"Here, give her directions." D.A. handed the phone to Phoebe, who handed it to Keesha.

"Arn, I'm going to write down the directions." Keesha explained. "No dicking around."

"I promise, no dicking around." Arnold echoed.

"You'd better not; the three of you together make a giant dicking around machine." Keesha sighed.

* * *

It was nearly five by the time the group all met up at the three-bedroom condo in Redondo Beach. The van was already in the driveway when the guys pulled up in the convertible. Before they could even get their luggage out, Keesha shot out of the van and came barreling toward them. 

"Okay, you weren't in Compton, were you?" Keesha fumed. The rest of the girls and Carlos got out more slowly, taking in the beach air and opportunity to stretch their legs.

"Not exactly, no." Ralphie admitted. Tim elbowed him hard, but knew that if Ralphie didn't cave under pressure, Arnold would.

"Why the hell did you lie, then? I bet you weren't pulled over, either!" Keesha accused.

"Oh, we were." Tim produced the ticket.

"We were in Santa Barbara when you called. We got a – a late start." Arnold confessed. "You wouldn't believe how much fun it is to cruise around in this car!"

"I call dibs on it next." Carlos cried.

"Damn, you were going fast," Keesha whistled softly. "Well at least you're penitent."

"Did you hear me, guys?" Carlos yelled. "One of YOU has to be one of the girls next time, I called dibs on a seat in the convertible."

"That's not how it works, Carlos." Tim grinned devilishly. "I decide who rides with me."

"Let me get your bags for you!" Wanda, who had napped for most of the trip, suddenly sprang into action. Ralphie, Arnold, and Tim looked at each other and smiled.

"I'm so glad I didn't put my money on Carlos," Tim whispered.

"What are we waiting for, let's go in!" D.A. sighed. She wasn't feeling too patient anymore, what with the boys lying to her and Carlos trying to touch her all the time. She wanted to be alone for a while so she could "recharge."

They entered the condo (after Arnold found his key), and began to explore. There were three bedrooms: a master bedroom with adjoining bath, a guest bedroom, and a small den with a fold-out sofa bed.

"I'll take the den," D.A. offered.

"I'll room with you!" Carlos wiggled his eyebrows.

"There's only one bed." D.A. said, realizing that it was to no avail too late.

"We can share."

"No." D.A. replied.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Carlos pleaded.

"In your wildest dreams."

"I can make your wildest dreams come true if you just give me a chance," Carlos whispered salaciously in D.A.'s ear.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" D.A. cried.

"I'll take the master suite, if no one's calling it." Arnold smiled.

"I'm not sharing a bed with you, dude." Tim negotiated.

"Me either." Ralphie added.

"Or me." Wanda chimed in. "I claim the guest bed."

"Wanda, that bed is huge! You can't have it all to yourself!" Phoebe said.

"Yes I can." Wanda took her bags into the guest room. "See?" She flopped down on the bed.

"Wanda, you take up, like, a quarter of the bed." Ralphie laughed.

"Please, D.A.?" Carlos asked genuinely. "I won't violate you." He was interrupted by a quick swat on his head. "What was that?"

"A rolled up magazine, what do you think?" Keesha said.

"What the hell was that for?" Carlos could feel the anger mounting a bit.

"Pissing D.A. off and being a general douche bag." Keesha explained.

"You think that's going to keep me from hitting on D.A.?" Carlos asked.

"It's how I taught Pongo not to piss on the carpet, so yes." Keesha grinned with satisfaction.

"Damn, you have guts." Carlos smiled. D.A. took the opportunity to duck into the den with her bags and shut the door.

"So I guess the rest of us have the two bedrooms." Arnold remarked.

"I call the master bedroom with all the girls," Carlos cried, unsuccessfully dodging another swat on the head with Keesha's newfound weapon – _Good Housekeeping_. "Except Jailbait Terese." Keesha swatted him again.

"Stop being so damn sleazy!" Keesha insisted.

"Are you making me sleep by myself because I'm not 18?" Phoebe asked.

"Yep." Carlos grinned and watched the magazine carefully.

Wanda cried out from the other room, "I'm not sleeping with Carlos either!"

"Carlos, you realize your plan leaves your friend Phoebe with all the other guys, right?" Keesha winked at Phoebe. "She could end up getting more than you." Phoebe blushed.

"That would be awesome!" Ralphie exclaimed, soliciting a room full of raised eyebrows. "I mean, if Phoebe got more than Carlos." He added quickly.

"Let's go to the beach now and worry about sleeping later." Tim suggested.

"I think I'm going to want to go to the store to pick up a magazine I actually want to read if I'm going to train Carlos." Keesha suggested. "We can go on our way to the beach."

"Who's in the convertible, Tim?" Carlos asked, hopeful.

Tim thought for a moment. "Um… Dorothy Ann and Wanda."

Wanda squealed. "YES! I WIN! Get your fifty bucks ready, Carlos."

"Whatever." Carlos shrugged. "I could arrive on a dumpy little bike and I'd still get discovered because of my charisma."

* * *

After hitting Ralph's for some groceries and hearing Carlos ask Ralphie if he got a discount for the umpteenth time – ("it is your store, isn't it?"), the gang went to the beach. It was nearly sunset, and the beach wasn't terribly crowded.

"Isn't it romantic?" Carlos asked, looking sidelong at Dorothy Ann.

"I'm going to read." D.A. spread her blanket on the ground and grabbed one of Keesha's magazines.

"Come on," Carlos scooted nearer to her. D.A. didn't move away, just lifted an eyebrow in warning. "We're on a classy beach together, alone – if they'd go away – at sunset. It's perfect."

"I know, you're ruining my moment." D.A. opened the _National Geographic_ and tried to read, but Carlos was staring at her. "Will you stop that? It's creepy."

"Everyone knows we have incredible chemistry." Carlos crooned.

"You smell like rotten moth balls." D.A. didn't look up from the glossy pages.

"Do moth balls rot?" Carlos wondered.

"I don't know and I don't care. Please go far away from me." D.A. looked up at him, more menacingly than he thought she could look.

"What if I don't want to?" Carlos asked.

"Then this happens." Keesha smacked Carlos with a _Rolling Stone_ and a _seventeen_ rolled together.

"OW!" Carlos whined. "Why'd you hit me so hard?"

"I had to catch up. Come on, let's move out." She grabbed Carlos' arm and pulled him away from D.A.

"She's a good friend," Arnold offered awkwardly. D.A sighed. She just wanted to be alone.

"Mm-hmm." D.A. turned a page.

"Look, I just wanted to talk to you when you weren't being followed by Carlos." Arnold looked over the top of the magazine. "But if you want to be alone, I understand that."

"It's okay;" D.A. put the magazine down. "I mean, since you're being nice about it."

"Sorry about sending you to Compton. I got your pictures." Arnold gazed at the sunset over the Pacific. Sunsets were definitely among his favorite things.

"Don't worry about it, no one got hurt." D.A. giggled. "We were pretty freaked though. Carlos was acting like he could get us out of there and that he could take down all the gangs with his stupid Swiss Army knife…"

"Let's not talk about Carlos," he urged softly in a tone that halted all of D.A.'s thoughts, a longed-for silence which lasted until they broke apart from their passionate kiss a minute later.

Phoebe turned her gaze away from Arnold and D.A. and back to the surf. She had rolled up her pant legs and was walking along the shore toward the pier with the waves licking her calves and feet. She'd chosen to go the direction of the pier, not only because it was away from the rest of the drama (Keesha and Carlos were probably throwing stuff at each other again, and Arnold and Dorothy Ann were exploring each others' mouths), but also because of the two figures playing Frisbee near the pier. Wanda was off hitting on some guy, probably trying to get "discovered" before Carlos did.

"Hey, Phoebe, want to play?" Tim called. Phoebe went into deer-in-the-headlights mode. She had been walking toward the guys, but that was the easy part. The hard part was talking to them, the impossible part was flirting. She'd had a crush on Arnold for a long time, but he and D.A. had been mutually attracted and inseparable like magnets. Only Carlos was foolish enough to try to come between them. Phoebe was still nursing a tiny pang of regret that she hadn't done more, but she was mostly over it. She wanted to avoid the regret in the future, which was why she was standing near the pier looking awkwardly at Ralphie and Tim.

"Catch!" Ralphie called and tossed a Frisbee at Phoebe, who was mortified. Her mind filled with images of the Frisbee hitting her in the eye, in the nose, in the forehead, or in the general face area. She ducked, and the Frisbee fell, tapping her lightly on the top of her head, then falling into the waves.

"Good try," Tim laughed lightheartedly.

"It was like it was tracking you!" Ralphie jogged toward Phoebe, who reached down to grab the disc that was headed back out to sea. Phoebe jogged toward it and heard Ralphie cry out, "Wave!" an instant too late. The Frisbee was brought back to shore by a fairly large wave that crashed against Phoebe's legs, soaking her. The sand sliding back out to sea made her feel as if she were moving backward on a conveyer belt. She picked up the Frisbee and pulled her feet out of the sand.

"I think I need to change my clothes." Phoebe laughed weakly.

"Nah, just stay in the sun for a little bit, you'll be fine." Tim grinned. "Come on, let's keep playing."

They tossed the Frisbee until Phoebe was downgraded from "soaked" to "damp" to "moist." After dark fell, the group gathered back together. Ralphie gestured for Tim to wait for him behind the rest of the group, then he asked, "Wasn't Phoebe acting weird?"

"Not too weird, just Phoebe-weird." Tim shrugged. "She's acted this way before. She probably just has a crush on someone, that's all." Phoebe was usually pretty comfortable around the guys, even though she was lanky and clumsy. It was only when she had a crush on someone that she didn't dare talk to any guys, lest they talk like girls, which normally didn't happen.

"On you or the convertible?" Ralphie asked in the same tone he played devil's advocate with.

"We'll have to see." Tim grinned evilly.

"Can I come too?" Ralphie asked. "I want to see how she reacts."

"Fine, just so we can compare notes." Tim sighed.

"And piss Carlos off as much as possible." Ralphie added. They jogged to catch up with the group.

"I was networking, what were you doing?" Wanda taunted Carlos.

"Building a wicked sandcastle." Carlos retorted.

"I had to find a constructive outlet for his energy." Keesha joked to Phoebe, who was another dog enthusiast.

"Are you taking him for a walk tomorrow?" Phoebe was relieved to be talking to a non-threatening person again.

"We're in L.A., not San Francisco, you freak." Carlos joked, and people laughed sincerely for the first time in recent memory.

"I'm impressed." D.A. smiled at Keesha. "You're rehabilitating him."

"I am the Carlos Weesperer." Keesha said in her best Cesar Millan imitation.

"I call shotgun in the convertible!" Wanda cried.

"I have dibs!" Carlos insisted.

"Dibs doesn't count – shotgun, no battle!" Wanda argued.

"Neither of you get it, did you forget my rule?" Tim yelled. "I choose who rides in it, and I choose Ralphie and Phoebe." Phoebe looked alarmed, and Tim and Ralphie smiled at each other. "We'll definitely find out who she likes tonight."

"Isn't this kind of evil?" Ralphie asked, smiling.

"It's Phoebe we're talking about." Tim laughed. "Besides, it's not like we're resorting to stealing her panties."

"Yet," Ralphie added.

* * *

"We have to be really careful to clean up," Arnold worried as he watched Wanda chug her third beer. Wanda had acquired beers from Ralph's on her fake ID. "Do we have to keep listening to this CD?" He sighed.

"Dude, it's awesome." Ralphie insisted. "Want a beer?" He teased.

"If I drink in my great-uncle's condo…" Arnold bit his lip nervously. "I think I'd be kicked out of my family."

"I bet there's a funnel in the kitchen somewhere – there has to be something we can make a beer bong out of." Carlos ran off.

"I WAS JOKING!" Ralphie cried. "Don't give Arnold beer."

"You weren't entirely kidding if you said it." Carlos insisted. "Want some liquor to calm your nerves, D.A.?"

"Go to hell." Dorothy Ann spat.

"I'll have something!" Keesha tried, but it was too late.

"Pretty eyes, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man…" Tim sang along with Elton John subconsciously. "Ballerina, you must've seen her dancing in the sand."

"I'm a ballerina!" Wanda said, trying to spin on her toes with her arms above her head in stereotypical ballerina fashion. "This song is so about me!"

"Right," Ralphie laughed. "You are tiny."

"Am not!" Wanda argued. "I'm five feet tall!"

"That's how much taller than the limit on midgets?" Arnold asked.

"Shut up!" Wanda teetered. "Fine then, I'm tiny and this song is so about me!" She seemed to be getting excited. "I have a song about me! Wait, when does he say 'tiny'?"

"The song is called 'Tiny Dancer.'" Phoebe replied, sipping her orange soda.

"I'm back and I got you a beer!" Carlos said to D.A.

"I don't want it." D.A. folded her arms.

"Come on, please?" Carlos did his best puppy eyes. Keesha tossed a copy of _National Geographic_ at his head with impeccable aim. "Ow, a corner hit me! That'll leave a mark on my perfect face!"

"You should've thought of that before you acted like a sleazebag." Keesha said. "Now give me that beer."

"I thought it was 'hold me closer, Tony Danza.'" Wanda continued.

"It is," Carlos nodded.

"It's 'Tiny Dancer.'" Phoebe repeated.

"You're lying." Carlos argued.

"No; I think I'd know what the songs I put on the CDs were called." Phoebe said.

"I don't think you're right. I'm looking it up on the internet." Carlos challenged.

"Fine." Phoebe raised her eyebrows.

"It's 'Tiny Dancer,' dude." Ralphie nodded at Phoebe. "Trust me, I've been listening to Elton John since I was little."

"You know that makes you gay, right?" Carlos turned around from pulling his laptop out of his bag. He turned back around and opened it up. "You'd better stay away from me."

"Gay isn't contagious." Ralphie rolled his eyes. "That's why I keep hanging out with YOU."

"Oh, teenage boys." Keesha sighed and smiled. "The only acceptable response to an accusation of gayness is to reciprocate."

"Big words, Keesha." Wanda pouted.

"The only way to respond to 'you're gay' is 'you're gayer.'" Keesha translated.

Wanda erupted in laughter. "IT'S SO TRUE."

"Look at this!" Everyone gathered around. Carlos had navigated to a page with a picture of Tony Danza and Elton John hugging and the words "Hold me closer, Tony Danza" in a large font on the page. The line was playing on a loop in the background. "It's proof!"

"Anyone can put whatever they want on that site." Keesha said skeptically. "It's not proof."

"Will you please close that – it's bugging me." Arnold furrowed his brow.

"I need another beer." Carlos went to the kitchen, singing "hold me closer, Tony Danza!"

"IT'S NOT 'TONY DANZA!'" Ralphie yelled.

"Just because I'm comfortable with my masculinity," Carlos began. "I can admit that Tony Danza is an attractive man."

"You just called me gay for liking Elton John." Ralphie pointed out.

"Elton John is gay." Carlos argued. "But Tony Danza – that's a man's man." He came back into the room and typed something into Google. "I mean, look." Unfortunately, everyone did. The first image to come up on the search was a black-and-white, naked picture of Carlos' beloved Tony Danza.

"You still want him to hold you closer, Carlos?" Arnold asked slyly.

"Go ahead, add the page to your favorites. We won't judge you." Tim patted Carlos on the shoulder.

"We all know how much you love Tony Danza." D.A. giggled.

"I'M NOT GAY FOR TONY DANZA." Carlos yelled.

Arnold, Tim, and Ralphie looked at each other briefly, before singing along, "Oh how it feels so real, lying here with no one near – only you, and you can't hear me when I say softly, slowly…"

"Hold me closer, Tony Danza!" the girls chimed in.

"STOP IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!" Carlos screamed. He covered his ears so he couldn't hear the rest of the chorus.

"So now you know not to argue with the experts over Elton John lyrics." Ralphie smirked.

"Tony Danza can hold ME closer any time." Wanda slurred.

"IT'S NOT ABOUT TONY DANZA, OKAY? YOU WIN!" Carlos yelled.**  
**

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Chapter title is from "California Love," by 2Pac

All the places I mention are real, except Walkerville and the condo. I don't own any of them. If I did, I'd be friggin' rich.

Keesha's inspiration to train Carlos comes from Questionable Content's comic 984.

Cesar Millan is the Dog Whisperer with a show on the National Geographic channel since late 2004.

The "hold me closer, Tony Danza" website is on "You The Man Now, Dog!"

"Tiny Dancer" really is NOT about Tony Danza.

Songs on Phoebe's mix so far, none of which I own:

"Beverly Hills," by Weezer  
"California Dreamin'" by the Mamas and the Papas  
"California Love," by 2Pac  
"Tiny Dancer," by Elton John

Reviews are love!


	2. chapter 2

**buy me a star on the boulevard**

**11:40 p.m.**

**on the same Friday**

"Why don't we do something else?" Carlos asked, desperate to get the image of a certain strapping young 80s TV star – nude – from his head.

"We could play Truth or Dare," Wanda suggested and didn't wait for an answer. "I'll go first – Dorothy Ann, truth or dare?"

"Why are we playing this?" D.A. asked.

"Because it's fun. Pick, or I'm going to make you streak." Wanda said firmly. Carlos' eyes lit up.

D.A.'s stomach tightened. "Truth." She said, looking straight at Carlos.

"This is the perfect opportunity to grill Phoebe," Ralphie whispered to Tim.

"I was thinking the same thing." Tim grinned.

"PAY ATTENTION TO ME." Wanda yelled.

"Okay, so would you rather get funky with Carlos, or –" Wanda thought. "Or bang every single one of the people we saw in Compton today?"

"Even the toothless hookers and crackheads?" D.A. asked.

"Even them." Wanda grinned evilly.

"Compton." D.A. replied after an obligatory moment of thought.

"Stop playing hard to get, D.A.," Carlos started. Keesha looked around for a magazine, but none were in reach, so she pinched Carlos on the neck, making a loud hissing sound. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm letting you know that behavior is unacceptable," Keesha explained. "My magazines are over there."

"That was kinky." Carlos raised his eyebrows.

"TSST!" Keesha repeated, pinching his neck.

"Ow!" Carlos flinched.

"Arnold," D.A. grinned. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Arnold returned the grin.

"Okay." D.A. stood up. "Tuck your shirt in."

"Why?" Arnold asked.

"Because you said 'dare.'" D.A. went in the kitchen and returned with three ice cubes. "I'm going to put these ice cubes down the back of your shirt and they have to stay there until someone picks you again."

"That's evil!" Keesha approved. "I'm getting my camera." She dug in her bag and pulled out her digital camera, turned it on, and waited. "Okay, go."

"Ready?" D.A. asked.

"No." Arnold gave a low whine.

"Three – two – one." D.A. dropped the ice cubes and Arnold shuddered and let out a restrained squeal. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Keesha had set her camera for rapid capture, and it beeped as it took several pictures of Arnold in various stages of agony.

"YES." Arnold squirmed. "Oh crap, they moved."

"Don't worry, your skin will numb up." Phoebe assured.

"Just before I get frostbite." Arnold sulked. "Okay, Carlos – truth or dare?"

"I'm going to go with truth after that evil stunt." Carlos smiled at D.A. Keesha made her hand into a warning pincer. Carlos looked away, and Keesha's hand morphed back.

"When you're fantasizing about Tony Danza, do you ever sing 'Tiny Dancer'?" Arnold smirked while trying to avoid moving unnecessarily.

"I don't fantasize about Tony Danza." Carlos said seriously. "I just thought that song was about Elton John beating it while thinking of Tony Danza, that's all."

"What if it were 'hold me closer, George Costanza'?" Tim sang.

"That would kick ass!" Wanda laughed.

"Then I'd think Elton John liked pudgy guys that were hairy around the edges." Carlos shrugged. "Can we move on?" The giggling subsided and he looked around. "Tim, truth or dare?"

"Dare." Tim looked at Arnold, who was trying very hard not to squirm in his obvious discomfort.

"I dare you to let me ride in the convertible." Carlos smiled. "Man, I'm clever!"

"Um, that's so lame, I'm going to veto it." Wanda interrupted. "D.A., get the ice cubes."

"NO!" Carlos protested. "I'm thinking!"

"I can do truth." Tim offered.

"No, I don't have anything thought up for that. How about you just chug a beer as fast as you can?" Carlos tried. "D.A., get the beer."

"I'm not getting you beer." D.A. replied. "Get your own."

"Fine." Carlos said with a hint of sass.

"Don't make me buy a shock collar for you." Keesha sighed.

"That's inhumane!" Phoebe protested.

"Not if it's used right." Keesha argued.

"I don't think using a shock collar on a person is using it right." Ralphie added.

"Okay, I'm timing you. If you take longer than 30 seconds, you have to redo it." Carlos poised his finger above a button on his watch. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Tim held the opened can up to his lips.

"Go!" Carlos' watch gave a small chirp and Tim threw his head back, opening his throat and doing his best to chug the beer to the chanting of the guys. He'd never really chugged anything, apart from that time he and the other guys had done the Gallon Challenge, but thinking about chugging milk wasn't helping him with the beer. Tim remembered someone saying that beer tasted like horse urine, another thing that didn't help. He tried to think of something else – anything else, but unfortunately, he had a brilliant idea and he had to stop chugging and beer flew out of his mouth and onto the carpet and a few of his friends.

"Watch it!" Arnold protested. "Carlos, mop this up!"

"He's not done with his beer," Carlos whined.

"CLEAN IT NOW." Arnold yelled, then squeaked a bit when the ice cubes moved.

"Fine." Carlos sighed and went to the kitchen for paper towels. "What happened, man?"

"I just got this crazy idea for a bonus dare for you." Tim grinned. "Want it?"

"What do I get?" Carlos negotiated.

"You get to ride in the convertible – once." Tim raised his eyebrows.

"Deal." Carlos said. "What do I have to do?"

"Name your dick 'George Costanza.' It's small, pudgy, and hairy around the edges." Tim stipulated.

"It's perfect!" Carlos' eyes lit up.

"Tim, are you going to take your real turn, now?" D.A. sighed.

"Yes. I pick Phoebe – truth or dare?" Tim and Ralphie exchanged evil glances and leaned in closer.

"Truth." Phoebe said firmly.

"Who do you like?" Tim asked. Carlos and Arnold leaned in further, which made Arnold jump a bit (the ice moved). Keesha's eyes widened a bit as Phoebe turned bright red. Tim and Ralphie smirked, and Wanda and D.A. raised their eyebrows interestedly.

"Dare." Phoebe blurted out. "I choose dare then."

"You can't do that!" Ralphie pressed. "You have to answer the question."

"Not if I take the dare," Phoebe said, mustering up all her courage.

"Fine." Tim looked at Ralphie. "I dare you to tell us who you like."

"That's not fair." Phoebe argued.

"Neither is you switching from truth to dare." Arnold pointed out. "How hard can it be to tell?"

"This is Phoebe we're talking about." Keesha said quietly. "She doesn't like to discuss this kind of thing."

"Can I tell you in the other room?" Phoebe asked.

"Only if I get to tell everyone right afterward." Tim negotiated.

"You weren't supposed to tell her you're going to do that!" Carlos complained.

"Hey, I'm not an asshole like you." Tim retorted. Phoebe hoped she'd develop a sudden case of the flu or something. She knew that whenever vomiting sounded like a great idea, she was in a world of hurt.

"Maybe we shouldn't play this anymore." Keesha said, concerned. "It's obviously really upsetting Phoebe."

"Come on," Wanda whined. "We can't quit now."

"I'm actually really tired." Phoebe lied. "I think I'm going to go to bed." She got up, grabbed her bag, ran in the bathroom, and shut the door.

"We have to keep playing!" Arnold cried. "Or I'm never going to get this ice out of my shirt!"

"You know, I think I like it that way." D.A. smirked.

Carlos couldn't help but feel miffed. If he had said that about D.A., he would've been neck-pinched by now. He wanted to know why Arnold could hit on D.A., but if he did, he was treated as a fat dog with problems. He liked to think Keesha was flirting with him in some bizarre way that was probably heavily influenced by Wanda (who used to have a sign in her locker that read, "The beatings will continue until morale improves"), but he didn't want to tie himself down to the girl who periodically swatted him in the head with a magazine. He wasn't going to give up on D.A. until it was even more obvious that he had no chance.

"Let's go to bed – I'm tired." Keesha yawned.

"It's barely after midnight!" Wanda protested.

"More time for the games of the night!" Carlos looked around to see if he had any takers. "Please don't hit me." He cowered when Keesha threatened to swat him.

Keesha stood over Carlos, poised and ready to strike – rolled-up magazine in hand – when she thought twice. On one hand, she needed to be consistent; her experience in training taught her that. On the other hand, she didn't want to be mean.

"Look what you started, Phoebe!" Wanda yelled. Phoebe peeked out the door. "Now everyone wants to go to bed."

"We had a long day." Phoebe replied, not looking at Tim or Ralphie, much to their fascination.

"I bet it's you." Ralphie whispered. "That's why she freaked out."

"She's Phoebe – she'd freak out anyway." Tim cocked an eyebrow.

"OW!" Carlos cried suddenly. "What did I do?"

"You were bawdy a minute ago, and I was considering my options." Keesha explained. "I decided consistency is more important to your training than me being nice."

"Well, I'm going to go back to the den and go to bed." Dorothy Ann stretched. Carlos wanted to look, but Keesha was watching him fiercely.

"I'm going to sleep in the guest bedroom." Phoebe announced, going into the guest room and closing the door.

"Wait!" Tim whispered loudly. "Ralphie and I are going to have the guest room too – we're on a mission."

"To torture Phoebe as much as you can?" Arnold asked skeptically.

"Pretty much." Ralphie smiled. "She was acting like she liked someone at the beach, and we want to know who it is."

"So you're going to camp out in her room in case she talks in her sleep?" Carlos asked.

"That's brilliant!" Ralphie said, a little too loudly. "Why didn't we think of a stake-out?"

"I'm not staying up." Tim replied. "You can do the stake-out by yourself."

"You'll never get it out of her." Keesha assured. "Phoebe's very good at not telling things like this."

"So do you know?" Tim asked. "You could save us the trouble…"

"And I would, if I thought you'd get anything out of her eventually." Keesha grinned. "But Phoebe knows how to put up with you guys."

"Damn," Ralphie said under his breath.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Wanda asked. "Does someone have a crush on Phoebe?" She taunted.

"No," Tim and Ralphie replied in unison.

"Liars." Wanda replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Keesha.

"So we'll take the guest room." Tim repeated.

"Me too – I called dibs." Wanda insisted.

"Come on, Wanda, it'll be too crowded." Ralphie pleaded.

"No way, I'm not missing this for the world." Wanda opened the door to the guest room, where Phoebe was laying on the bed, reading. "Hey Pheebs, we're your roomies."

"All of you?" Phoebe asked tentatively, glancing nervously at Tim and Ralphie. "I thought someone would be in the master bedroom."

"Yeah, about that." Ralphie started. "You see, Carlos has really bad gas."

"He can literally clear a room with it." Tim continued. "He warned us that he had a rancid burrito earlier today."

"Then why didn't I smell it while we were in the van?" Phoebe asked.

"The air conditioning." Wanda replied.

"And it's worse when he sleeps." Ralphie interrupted her.

"Keesha's staying with him so she can smack him on the head when he farts." Tim explained. "And Arnold – Arnold's just…"

"A masochist." Ralphie finished.

Phoebe laughed, still slightly nervous. "I guess I'll sleep on the floor then."

"No, it's okay," Tim said quickly. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"This isn't about that question, is it?" Phoebe looked sternly at Tim.

"Busted." Wanda laughed.

"Shut up, Wanda!" Tim snapped.

"To tell you the truth, Phoebe," Ralphie sat down next to her on the bed. "We noticed you were acting a little – off – on the beach and we wanted to make sure you're okay."

"He's so lying." Wanda interjected. "They think you want one of them." Phoebe blushed. "You do, don't you? Who is it? Tell me! Tell me! TELL ME!"

"Wanda, you're not helping!" Tim cried.

"I am too!" Wanda argued.

"Can we please just leave it alone? I'd really rather not talk about it." Phoebe said quietly.

"Okay, I'm not gonna lie – we did think you had a crush on someone, and we wanted to help you out." Ralphie lifted his eyebrows and looked at Phoebe with his best sincere, harmless look. "After we made sure you were okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Phoebe replied, simultaneously disarmed and set on edge by Ralphie's look. "And I'll ask for your help if I need it – thanks."

"He's lying to you." Wanda whispered to her. "He just wants to know, he doesn't want to help."

"Stop confusing Phoebe!" Tim insisted. "Seriously, Pheebs, we didn't think anything was wrong – we just wanted to know who the lucky guy was, that's all. No harm in that, right?"

"It's not that big of a deal, Phoebe, everyone has urges." Wanda nodded.

"We'll make you a deal." Tim suggested. "We won't tell anyone but each other if you just tell one of us sometime before we go home, okay?"

"Will you let me sleep?" Phoebe whined. "Okay, fine. I'll tell one of you sometime this weekend. Just let me go to sleep now."

"So, who wants to get in bed with Phoebe?" Wanda winked. The two guys looked at each other nervously, and Wanda seemed to have an idea. "Don't you guys have to brush your teeth?" She ushered them out the door. "So, Phoebe,"

"Can we please just let it slide?" Phoebe sighed.

"No, no, no. That's not what I was going to ask!" Wanda grinned. "I was going to ask if you want to know why they care so much about who you like."

"Um, sure." Phoebe looked at Wanda hesitantly. "Why?"

"Because I want to find out." Wanda looked around and leaned in closer to Phoebe. "I think they want to know because one of them likes you, so he wants to know if you like him too."

"Okay…" Phoebe looked blank.

"So I'll find out why they want to know, then." Wanda negotiated.

"How?" Phoebe asked.

"I have my ways." Wanda touched the tips of her fingers together.

"Don't hurt them." Phoebe pleaded.

"Hurt them? Who do you think I am, Keesha?" Wanda asked, aghast.

"Keesha's not hurting Carlos." Phoebe remarked. "She's just – communicating that the behavior is unacceptable. It's a bastardized version of Koehler's dog training methods…"

"No one cares." Wanda remarked. "But last time I checked, hitting people was wrong."

"Keesha told YOU that after you slapped Janet snotless." Phoebe pointed out.

"And now she's being a big, fat hypocrite!" Wanda yelled.

"I heard that!" Keesha replied from the other room.

"So here's what we're going to do." Wanda smiled evilly. "You will not tell either one of the guys who the lucky fellow is, okay?"

"Okay." Phoebe nodded nervously.

"Instead, you're going to tell me now." Wanda nodded leadingly. "You're going to tell me… now."

"After I hear the rest of your plan." Phoebe negotiated.

"Fine." Wanda sighed. "I tell them ONLY after I hear why they need to know."

"What if they lie?" Phoebe asked nervously.

"I didn't think of that." Wanda said, disappointed. "Okay, first I'll get intel from Arnold and Carlos, plus observing them in action."

"This sounds awfully complicated." Phoebe worried.

"Not really, no." Wanda continued. "I'll just – I know exactly how I'll do it!"

"How?" Phoebe asked.

"I can't tell you." Wanda said. "So, who is it?" Phoebe took a deep breath and whispered something unintelligible. "What? Some of us can only hear when people speak normally."

"Ralphie." Phoebe said louder.

"What?" Ralphie asked. He and Tim had returned from the bathroom.

Desperate to say something, Phoebe blurted, "Wanda asked who would want to go to Dodger Stadium with her, so I said you would."

"Yeah, I'd love to go!" Ralphie said. "I didn't know you liked the Dodgers, Wanda." He had a sinking feeling that the girls hadn't been talking about baseball when they came in. Phoebe was looking at Wanda pleadingly, as she knew Wanda liked to blurt out information once she had it. Wanda winked at Phoebe a bit too obviously.

"Well, it's better than watching Arnold and D.A. make out on the beach, right?" Wanda laughed awkwardly. "So who's sleeping where?"

"I'll take the floor," Ralphie and Phoebe offered simultaneously.

"I guess you're sleeping with me, then, aren't you, Tim?" Wanda grinned wickedly.

* * *

"So what am I going to get out of this training thing?" Carlos asked, looking intently at Keesha from where he lay on the master bed. "Sex?"

"TSST!" Keesha replied, pinching Carlos' neck.

"So I can't talk about sex anymore?" Carlos whined.

"You can't proposition anyone for it until you learn to behave." Keesha folded her arms.

"You guys are so weird." Arnold sighed.

"But after you finish 'training' me, I can go back to being my old self?" Carlos asked.

"The problem with that is that no one really liked your old self." Keesha replied. "But apart from Wanda punching you in the groin that one time you tried coming on to her, nothing could deter you from being such a horndog."

"Please don't bring that up again." Carlos begged.

"I'm being much more humane here and giving you the feedback you need, and if I need to hit you on the head with a magazine to do it, so be it." Keesha continued. "Trust me, it's for your good as well as everyone else's."

"Fine." Carlos rolled over. "So, who's sharing a bed with me?" He looked up to see Keesha coming after him. "Platonically." She froze in her tracks.

"No way." Arnold shook his head. "Not after the Tony Danza thing."

"If I really wanted Tony Danza – which I don't – you'd have nothing to worry about." Carlos rolled his eyes. "I'd go after Ralphie."

Arnold shuddered. "I'll just sleep on the floor."

"Goodnight," Keesha said as she got into bed. "I swear, Carlos, if you try anything funny, you're dead meat."

"I know." Carlos moved over to give her extra room.

"Goodnight." Arnold turned off the light.

Carlos thought about what Keesha had said about nobody liking the way he was. At first, he was defensive, but she had a point. Sure, Phoebe put up with him, but she was too nice to really say anything. D.A., on the other hand, was making it perfectly clear what she thought of his advances, but he had paid no attention because he hadn't wanted to believe she felt that way. He knew he had to get over her, and more importantly, himself if he had any chance with girls worth having a chance with. He sighed. As sleep set in, he wondered how he was ever going to change and if it would make any difference.

The voices in the next room had died down by the time Carlos emitted his first muffled snore. Arnold bit the inside of his cheek cautiously and stood up, letting the blankets fall to the floor with a minimum of noise. He paused for a moment to make sure Keesha and Carlos were sleeping. He reached for the doorknob, slowly letting his fingers close around it before turning it just as slowly. He carefully pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway, which was combined with the living and dining room. He grabbed the outside doorknob and closed the door softly, the click of the latch barely audible. He tiptoed past the guest bedroom, which was nearly silent, and went to the den. He grabbed the doorknob with his left hand and knocked softly with his right before opening the door.

"Hey," D.A. smiled groggily. "It took you long enough."

"Sorry, I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep." Arnold grinned.

"I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind." D.A. scooted over on the bed. Arnold sat down in the space she'd left.

"You've got to be kidding." Arnold wrapped his arms around her. "You think I'd ever pass up the chance," D.A. cut him off by kissing him violently.

* * *

**9:00 a.m.**

**on a Saturday**

Wanda usually wasn't awake this early on vacations, but scheming had a way of making her more excited about life than usual. She was about to get up and pour herself a bowl of cereal when she dozed back off. Meanwhile, Keesha hadn't slept well because Carlos was snoring. She reminded herself to pick up some earplugs that day. After a minute or two of being awake with Carlos' snoring, Keesha smacked him with a pillow. "Wake up!"

"What did I do?" Carlos asked.

"You snore." Keesha informed him.

"Hitting me won't help, will it?" Carlos flinched.

"No, but I was laying here and I couldn't take it any more." Keesha sighed.

"That's not fair." Carlos whined.

"It is too." Keesha retorted. "You'd hit me with a pillow if you had half the chance."

"True." Carlos flashed his token crooked grin. Keesha hit him again.

"DON'T FLIRT WITH ME." She said firmly.

"All right!" Carlos winced. "I'm not anymore."

"Hey, kids, stop fighting!" Arnold said cheerily from the kitchen, where he was wearing a burgundy terrycloth robe. "Anyone want coffee?"

"Wait, wasn't he in here before?" Carlos whispered. "Someone must have got some last night…"

"Ew." Keesha wrinkled her nose.

"You didn't have to hear it." Phoebe groaned slightly. She was normally a major morning person, though not as perky as Arnold was this morning.

"I'll have some," Dorothy Ann was just as chipper as Arnold.

"Gag me," Keesha sighed.

"Well somebody's bright eyed and bushy tailed," Wanda said, coming out of her room. She saw Arnold's bathrobe and laughed. "What's up with this?" She tugged at the bathrobe's tie before Arnold could do anything. "HE'S NAKED UNDER THERE!" She yelled.

"Yet another really good reason to stay in bed," Tim muttered and rolled over.

"Tim, get up!" Ralphie urged. "Phoebe's groggy – she might talk!"

"Fine, then use your wiles to get something out of her. I'm tired." Tim buried his head under the pillow.

"Why did you undress me?" Arnold demanded, his voice squeaking a little.

"Why aren't you wearing clothes?" Wanda countered.

"I asked first!" Arnold argued.

"I'm with Wanda." Keesha added. "Why are you naked?"

"I like to sleep naked sometimes." Arnold said defensively. D.A. looked relieved. "I just felt like it last night… after the beer…"

"Whatever," Carlos shrugged. "Give me some Cheerios."

* * *

"So, where to?" Phoebe, as one of the drivers, was assigned as the designated decider of where to go and what to do.

"I've heard the tar pits are really interesting." Dorothy Ann suggested. "I think we should go to that museum."

"Boring." Wanda yawned.

"I don't know," Arnold raised his eyebrows. "Animals struggling to get out of a pit of asphalt and dying – that sounds pretty cool to me."

"It's definitely dramatic." Keesha looked at Phoebe, who seemed uneasy with a museum about animals dying in sticky, gooey pits.

"And isn't it by all the star thingies?" Carlos asked cautiously.

"The Walk of Fame, Carlos." Dorothy Ann rolled her eyes.

"And you two have a date with Dodger Stadium," Phoebe elbowed Wanda into Ralphie.

"Ugh, right." Wanda recoiled a bit.

"I thought you wanted to go," Ralphie asked, slightly hurt.

"I do," Wanda sighed, frustrated. She didn't really care about baseball, it was one of those stupid things she'd liked as a kid. She'd only go to pump Ralphie for information, but Ralphie wasn't going to talk if baseball was involved.

"It's fine, I can always come back with my uncle or something." Ralphie shrugged.

"What about your dad?" Wanda asked. Ralphie shot her a look that told her to shut up.

"My dad's not taking me anywhere any time soon." Ralphie said tersely.

"Okay, let's go to the tar pits." Phoebe interrupted. "And some of that other stuff."

"Let's go!" D.A. jumped up quickly.

"Who's going in the convertible?" Wanda asked Tim.

"Hey, we should make an alliance." Keesha whispered to Carlos.

"A what?" Carlos asked.

"You know, like on Survivor – only instead of not voting each other off, we go together in the convertible." Keesha explained.

"Okay, I'm going to go along with what you said because I don't entirely understand it." Carlos replied slowly.

"So, Carlos," Tim said. "Want to come in the convertible?"

"Sure, but Keesha's coming with me." Carlos negotiated and turned to her.

"It's for his training. He can't go anywhere alone." Keesha continued.

"Not even the bathroom?" Wanda gasped.

"Um, Wanda, we stopped thinking boy parts were gross five years ago." Keesha rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I'm the one who single-handedly made Arnold naked." Wanda boasted.

"I'm never sleeping naked with you guys again." Arnold folded his arms. D.A. shot him what she and Arnold thought was a subtle look, even when Tim made slight gagging noises.

"Okay, let's go." Tim said, pulling out his keys.

* * *

"So what does Survivor have to do with this?" Carlos asked Keesha.

"Nothing." Keesha sighed. It was the third or fourth time she'd tried to explain her methods to Carlos, who just wasn't getting it.

"Okay, so tell me what you know about who Phoebe likes." Tim demanded. "Since I let you come along, you owe it to me to give me a hint."

"Okay." Keesha thought for a minute. "This hint will definitely eliminate half of your suspects, considering all the people Phoebe's personality is compatible with… not to mention her interests and emotional considerations…"

"Yeah. Tell me." Tim insisted.

"Phoebe likes a guy." Keesha replied.

"Obviously." Tim rolled his eyes. "So what's the hint?"

"That was it. She could probably have a very fulfilling relationship with a girl." Keesha offered. "But I know that in this case – at least – Phoebe likes the dick."

"Has Phoebe even _had_the dick?" Carlos asked.

"Yes, and I'm leaving it at that." Keesha folded her arms. "No more 'hints.'"

* * *

"Do you think the animals made screwy faces as they were dying in the ooze?" Wanda asked excitedly.

"I don't think so…" D.A. was put off.

"I hope not," Phoebe added from the driver's seat. She wondered how she'd let Ralphie take shotgun and was waiting for the inevitable grilling.

"Do you think if I threw bread crumbs in, a seagull would get caught in it and we could watch it die?" Wanda's eyes widened.

"That's disgusting, Wanda." Arnold said.

"And would probably get you arrested." Ralphie added. "And you wouldn't want to miss Dodger Stadium, would you?"

"I'm not going on a date with you to see stinky man-feet." Wanda retorted. "Not while I can watch seagulls die."

"Come on…" Ralphie pleaded.

"Okay, here we are." Phoebe announced loudly, not particularly looking forward to seeing anything die.

Tim, Keesha, and Carlos had already arrived. The eight went into the museum of fossilized remains and began to look around, but before long, Wanda had noticed that nothing was actually in the process of the drama that was depicted in so many dioramas around the museum, so she got bored. The eight split up, with Ralphie, Tim, and Wanda tailing Phoebe; Arnold and Dorothy Ann sneaking off to look at the geology and "stuff," and Keesha and Carlos headed to the gift shop.

"This blows." Wanda pouted. "They made me think there was actually going to be something cool here."

"There are open pits of goo that kill things." Tim pointed out. "That's cool."

"It's weird." Phoebe said uneasily.

"Speaking of weird, who do you like?" Tim asked quickly. Phoebe's jaw dropped. Tim waited for her to respond, but she didn't.

"Why do you want to know?" Wanda pressed. "Tell me. Tell me now."

"Because I want to know!" Tim put his hands up. "Knowledge is power."

"Why do _you_want to know, Ralphie?" Wanda pointed at him, causing him to shrug his shoulders up like a submissive animal.

"Because… knowing is half the battle?" Ralphie tried.

"You guys are losers." Wanda rolled her eyes. "Tell me why you want to know and you'll know who it is."

"Or we can just keep grilling Phoebe." Tim looked over at Phoebe, who went a bit paler.

"She'll never talk." Wanda argued. "Not to you."

"That's what you think!" Tim argued, realizing how stupid it sounded.

"Can we leave now?" Wanda whined. "I'm so done with this place and Tim tried interrogating you – can we leave?"

"Let's find the others." Phoebe suggested.

"Um, I don't think Arnold and D.A. are done yet." Ralphie said quietly, pointing to one of the alcoves covered by a curtain. After a moment of listening, they heard a giggle.

"Oh." Phoebe bit her lip. "Let's find Carlos and Keesha." The four went to the gift shop, but couldn't find Carlos and Keesha anywhere, even after dividing up and going through the museum quickly. Finally, Tim looked out in the parking lot.

"Oh my hell, they took the car!" Tim fumed. "What are we going to do now?"

Phoebe took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "Well, we can't get mad at them."

"Why the hell not?" Tim raged.

"Because that's a reinforcement." Phoebe reasoned. "If Keesha thinks she's the only one who can pull dog training on us, she's in for something else."

"But what if they wreck it or scratch it?" Tim asked.

"They'll have to pay for it – there will be consequences," Phoebe said slowly. "But we're not going to freak out. That's what they want. We're going to make them think we don't care."

"Reverse psychology?" Ralphie asked.

"Sort of." Phoebe smiled. "Don't worry, Tim, they're probably just fine."

"I hate you." Tim muttered. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Go somewhere else." Phoebe shrugged. "Any ideas?"

"Rodeo Drive!" Wanda interjected. "I've always wanted to see the stores and stuff."

"Ooh, not really into the whole shopping thing." Ralphie cringed.

"Yeah, me either." Phoebe added.

"What if you didn't have to go?" Wanda begged. "You can just drop me off. Please?"

"You can't afford anything on Rodeo Drive." Phoebe said. "Maybe a Coach keychain or something, but that's it."

"I just want to look!" Wanda argued. "Looking is free."

"I'll take you if you call me an hour before you're ready to go and if Tim goes with you." Phoebe reasoned.

"Does he _have to_?" Wanda rolled her eyes.

"I have to go shopping with her?" Tim sighed. "I'm not into shopping."

"It'll keep you from thinking about the car." Phoebe suggested.

"Nice try." Tim replied.

"You've been interrogating me." Phoebe seemed to be growing a backbone. "I'll drop you off now."

"What about –" Ralphie started.

"We're leaving them here." Phoebe continued. "Let's go."

* * *

Keesha couldn't believe what they had just done. Tim's keys had dangled conveniently from his pocket and Carlos had snagged them without being caught. It had started out as a harmless joke, and was continuing to be relatively harmless. After all, they were only going to go around the block until Tim found out. 

"Where should we go?" Keesha asked.

"We could go visit my uncle Jésus," Carlos suggested.

"Where is he?" She wondered.

"In Tijuana." Carlos grinned.

"You're lying." Keesha rolled her eyes.

"How can you be sure?" Carlos pried.

"You totally would've flaunted that you're related to Jesus by now." She pointed out.

"True." He was surprised that she'd caught that. "We could go to Tijuana anyway."

"I don't think I'm ready to go that far with you." Keesha said skeptically.

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking for sex, just for you to go all the way." Carlos winked. Keesha gave him the look that was the equivalent of smacking him on the head with a magazine.

* * *

"Excuse me, you two need to stop." A museum worker peered at Arnold and Dorothy Ann, pulling back the curtain delicately. "There are children here."

"Oh, sorry." D.A. blushed a bit. "Should we find the others? I'm sure they're bored by now."

"Sucks to be them," Arnold winked. "They don't have hot girlfriends they can mess around with in dark rooms."

"I'm not your girlfriend." D.A. recoiled uncomfortably. "I thought we were doing this with no strings attached."

"We were, but…" Arnold fumbled. "I thought we had something special!"

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with you." D.A. folded her arms and turned away.

"Dorothy Ann, please!" He pleaded, increasingly aware of the attention they were getting. "We're causing a scene."

* * *

"Why is everything so expensive?" Wanda pouted. "They should at least make something _affordable_."

"What about those keychains Phoebe told you about?" Tim suggested. He normally didn't mind shopping if he could do it quickly, but shopping with girls was like having his eyelids perforated slowly.

"They're expensive!" Wanda whined. "Your aunt is rich, you could spring for one, right?"

"Can we not talk about my aunt?" Tim felt his stomach turn over. "She's so going to kill me when she finds out about the car…"

"I'm sure it's fine. It's not like some creepy Mexican took it." Wanda paused a moment. "Some creepy Mexican we don't know, I mean." Some of the other shoppers shot Wanda dirty looks.

"You might want to control your xenophobia," Tim whispered.

"What? Does that mean you can tell I'm not wearing panties?" Wanda asked too loudly. Tim grabbed her and pulled her out of the store quickly. "Don't use those big words around me!"

"I won't if you stop making remarks about Latinos so loudly." Tim negotiated.

"Seriously, though, this place is expensive!" Wanda looked around. "I wasn't being racist. It's not like I was saying this place is run by Jews or something." Tim put his hand over her mouth, much to her dismay. Wanda struggled for a moment before calming down. "What's the big deal, it's not like Arnold's around."

"Arnold isn't the only Jew in the world." Tim informed her.

"I know that!" Wanda retorted. "He's just the only one I care about enough not to piss off… too much."

"How sweet." Tim sighed. "Let's call Phoebe."

"No way! I want to see the star sidewalk!" Wanda insisted. "Can we go, please?"

"Only if you stop suggesting they build a Wal-Mart here."

"They'd make so much money, though!" Wanda argued. "Then I could at least buy some M&Ms. All I wanted was to buy something from somewhere on Rodeo Drive. Is that too much to ask?"

"No." Tim smiled weakly. "Unfortunately, you can't afford perfume samples."

"Maybe I could bribe them into giving me a bag!" Wanda headed toward the Chanel store.

"Wanda, stop!" Tim grabbed her arms. Wanda kicked in protest. "Stop – acting – like – a – child!" Tim managed.

"I just want a bag so it looks like I could afford to buy something there!" Wanda whined. "Hey!" She stopped kicking. Tim sighed in relief. "I know how we could get the money to buy me a whole purse!"

* * *

Arnold didn't want to answer his phone, especially when he saw it was Wanda. He didn't want to stew in his disappointment even more, so he hit the "Send" button on his phone. "Hey."

"Arnold, you need to come to Rodeo Drive now." Wanda sounded bubbly. "You're going to do me a huge favor."

"What the hell are you doing?" Arnold heard Tim ask.

"Wanda, what the hell _are_you doing?" Arnold repeated.

"Tim is going to pimp you out on Santa Monica so I can buy a purse. I haven't decided if I'm going to go with Gucci or Louis Vitton or –"

"You can't be serious." Arnold shook his head.

"You'll make lots of money!" Wanda assured. "What with your looks and Tim's natural charisma…"

"You mean that I'm black." Tim grabbed the phone. "Sorry, Arn. How's the museum going?"

"I want to go home." Arnold moped. "I – uh, feel sick."

"How's D.A.?" Tim pried.

"How would I know?" Arnold snapped.

"Well, you two were getting pretty close in that alcove..." Tim started.

"You guys all saw that?" Arnold asked. "We were being so careful!"

"We saw you guys making out on the beach yesterday, too." Tim confessed. "So are you two a thing now?"

"She wanted to just be friends or whatever." Arnold admitted.

"Ouch." Tim sighed. "So, do you want to go to the star sidewalk thing?"

"Sure." Arnold sighed. "Come pick me up, okay?"

"About that – Carlos and Keesha stole the convertible and we haven't heard from them. Phoebe dropped Wanda and me off here." Tim explained.

"Then call Phoebe. Where is she anyway?" Arnold asked.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Chapter title is from "Californication," by Red Hot Chili Peppers

"Hold me closer, George Costanza" was not my idea, sadly.

Thanks to theultimateSora for helping me with this fic and to all reviews so far!


	3. chapter 3

**one more day up in the canyon**

**1:10 p.m.**

**the same Saturday**

"Awesome!" Ralphie said for the umpteenth time after the tour of Dodger Stadium. They hadn't been able to go on the full tour, seeing as the dugout and things were being used soon, but Ralphie was on a high from being that near an actual pro baseball field.

"I knew you were excited, but not this excited." Phoebe tried not to think about how awkward it was walking around alone with Ralphie in a huge baseball stadium – just the two of them. They probably looked like they were siblings or dating. She looked around, slightly nervous. Good thing Ralphie was distracted. When he thought about baseball, wild horses couldn't get him to think about anything else.

In his amazement, Ralphie couldn't stop thinking about how much cooler this place would've been so much better if his father had taken him. He tried to focus on the fact that he was in Dodger Stadium, even though he didn't like the Dodgers, but something about baseball made him feel like he was a kid again, and it wasn't exactly something he wanted to think about now.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah," Ralphie said dismissively. "I just wish it was Shea Stadium instead. My mom loves the Mets."

"Isn't Shea Stadium 'the House that Ruth Built'?" Phoebe asked. Ralphie's icy glare at her told her she was wrong. "Sorry, I didn't know…"

"That's_Yankee_ Stadium, not Shea." Ralphie corrected.

"Oh." Phoebe bit her lip. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Ralphie said. "I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just –"

"No, it's the Yankees-Mets thing, I understand." Phoebe interrupted. She kicked herself internally for ruining what had been a great afternoon. "I mean, sorry for the misunderstanding."

"It's okay." Ralphie repeated.

"I shouldn't have said anything. You _do_ know everything about baseball." Phoebe hoped that a little flattery would help.

"Not everything, no." Ralphie tried to be modest. "I do know a lot, but…"

"A lot more than I do." Phoebe continued. "And I'm not totally ignorant or anything. You know a lot."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Ralphie abandoned his modesty. "Shea Stadium and Yankee Stadium, although totally different – especially in terms of how awesome their teams are – are two of the most interesting stadiums in major league baseball…"

* * *

"We're not really going to Tijuana, are we?" Keesha asked nervously, looking around at the highway around them.

"Why not?" Carlos asked.

"They might get worried." Keesha began enumerating reasons. "We might get thrown in a Mexican prison."

"Keesha, my family _runs_ a Mexican prison. I have connections. I could get us out." Carlos rolled his eyes.

"They do not." Keesha replied.

"How do you know?" Carlos asked slyly. "For all you know, my family is rich and powerful, yet very corrupt."

"Okay, I can believe that part." Keesha conceded. "But aren't prisons run by the state?"

"Corrupt, Keesha – CORRUPT." Carlos repeated slowly. "People who want real justice go to my family."

"You're so trying to make yourself sound cool." Keesha shook her head. "Take this exit, let's go through the hills."

"Fine." Carlos got into the right lane without using his turn signal.

"What the hell was that?" Keesha screeched. "You didn't use your turn signal! You could've got us killed!"

"Keesha, it's a little blinking light." Carlos sighed. "And look, we're still alive."

"So? That was reckless driving!" Keesha stuck to her guns.

"No," Carlos sighed. "THIS is reckless driving." He drove across two lanes to the exit, cutting off at least three cars while honking his horn.

"DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN." Keesha screamed.

* * *

"My car…" Tim wailed quietly. He looked back at his phone, then dialed. "I'm going to find out what's taking Arnold so long."

"It doesn't matter." Wanda shrugged. "We'll get the best business after dark anyway."

"No." Tim mouthed.

"I'll give you 50." Wanda offered.

"Deal." Tim nodded. "Hey, Arn, where are you?"

"I'm walking." Arnold sighed. "And it's hot. And people are honking at me."

"That could be a good thing." Tim thought a bit. "Do you have any money on you?"

"No." Arnold mentally took inventory of his wallet. "I have maybe 40 cents and my uncle's credit card for emergencies."

Tim looked at Wanda. "Okay. Want us to walk toward where you are?"

"Sure." Arnold said. "See ya." He closed his phone and continued trudging along.

* * *

By the time Tim and Wanda had caught up with Arnold, they decided that walking through Los Angeles in the middle of the day was a bad idea on several levels. They caught a bus to the Walk of Fame, which ended up being about five miles away anyway.

"I'm so glad we're not out there walking." Wanda fanned herself with a map she'd found. Wanda was like a magnet for other people's discarded things.

"You didn't have to walk the whole three miles." Arnold argued.

"Where's D.A.?" Tim asked again.

"I don't know and I don't care." Arnold lied. He hoped she hadn't wandered into the arms of danger.

* * *

"Thanks," D.A. said as she took her chicken bowl from the cashier at a restaurant that was slightly pricier than she'd hoped, but she was both starving and unsure of the dirty taco stands (they reminded her too much of Carlos anyway). She sat and made her plan. Her phone buzzed. It was Arnold. She hit "Ignore" and sighed, wondering why she was so irresistible to losers and 25-year-olds stuck in young men's bodies.

* * *

"… and that's why the Sox weren't supposed to win the World Series in 2004." Ralphie finished.

"I knew about the curse, but I didn't know it had anything to do with Yankee Stadium." Phoebe folded her arms. They'd been talking – or rather, Ralphie had been talking – about baseball for an hour and a half, and batting practice had begun. "All I know is that there would be no Lou Gehrig's disease if he played for the Sox sometime in his career." Ralphie laughed. The two of them left Dodger Stadium, Ralphie still talking about how terrible the Yankees were, and Phoebe couldn't help but wonder if people thought they were dating. The thought of it made her blush. On second thought, they weren't holding hands or even really touching, so people probably thought they were related. "So," she asked during a lull, "did you ever go to the Baseball Hall of Fame?"

"No." Ralphie answered more quietly. "I always wanted to go with my dad."

"Why didn't you guys go?" Phoebe asked.

"My parents divorced when I was six," Ralphie explained, "and my dad left a couple years later. I haven't really heard from him since."

"Oh." Phoebe bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"Meh," Ralphie shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"It still sucks," Phoebe unlocked the driver's door of the van and pressed the "unlock" button a few times to make sure the passenger side opened. "Okay, it's open." Ralphie opened the door of the van. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I'd really rather not." Ralphie smiled weakly. "I just don't like talking about – or thinking about – my dad."

"Sorry I brought it up." Phoebe pressed her seat belt buckle in until it clicked.

"You know what would make me feel better?" Ralphie asked. "If you told me who you like."

"Nice try," Phoebe laughed.

"But I'd feel so much better!" Ralphie looked at Phoebe pleadingly.

"I'll make you a deal." Phoebe took a deep breath. "You tell me why you want to know, and then I'll tell you who I like."

"Fine." Ralphie smiled and Phoebe felt her stomach tie up in anticipation. "We wanted to know because Tim had a thing for you."

"Tim did?" Phoebe's heart sank. A twinge of anger and frustration at being interested in what Ralphie had said for the past three hours flared up, but she was able to quell it. She clenched her teeth and focused her energy on redirecting the feelings she'd been trying to keep from developing for Ralphie to Tim.

"Yeah." Ralphie looked sidelong at Phoebe. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Tim." Phoebe replied before giving it another thought. "I like Tim."

* * *

"Do we have to sit on that bus again?" Wanda whined as she, Tim, and Arnold strolled up Hollywood Boulevard back toward Vine Street. "Because I don't want to get herpes from the seats."

"Maybe you should've worn panties, then, Wanda." Arnold said glumly.

"How did you know? I only told Tim!" Wanda looked at Tim suspiciously.

"You're – different." Arnold refused to pursue the thought any further. "Guys, I feel really bad about ditching DA."

"She dumped you. Get over it already." Wanda adjusted her large, white-rimmed sunglasses that reminded Tim a little too much of Paris Hilton. "Let's get famous."

"You're not going to be discovered in a tourist trap!" Tim protested, chasing after Wanda, who was strolling down Hollywood in low-heeled sandals, a short skirt, and a tube top. Arnold watched them disappear, then ducked into a phone booth, where he pulled out his cell phone. He hadn't called in an hour, it was legitimate to worry, he told himself.

"Hello?" A calm, steely voice asked.

"You're okay?" Arnold asked, incredulous.

"I can take care of myself." Dorothy Ann replied coolly. "You sound like you're a mess."

"I've been hanging out with Wanda and Tim – and only one of them is wearing underwear." Arnold explained.

"Ouch." D.A. cracked a smile. "Anyway, I went back to the condo and now I'm on the beach."

"How'd you get in?" Arnold asked.

"I have my ways," D.A. rubbed tanning lotion on her legs, hoping to cover some of the more minor bruises she'd incurred in climbing through the den window, which she and Arnold had left open as a precaution.

"Do you mind if I come and join you?" Arnold asked sweetly. "Tim is chasing no-panties Wanda down Hollywood Boulevard and trying to keep her from acting like she's already famous."

"That sounds really tough," D.A. adjusted herself on her towel. "I'm sorry."

"Please," Arnold begged. "I don't want to be needy, but please let me be with you now."

Dorothy Ann considered her options. "Okay."

* * *

"Is that Carlos Avenue?" Carlos asked, nearly hitting someone.

"Shut up and drive, I'll take a picture." Keesha insisted as she snapped a picture of the sign as she and Carlos whizzed past. "I think you're in it, too." They were driving up Gower Street. "Oh my hell, slow down!" Keesha cried, taking another picture.

"What?" Carlos asked.

"Franklin Avenue!" Keesha was pleased.

"There's probably a Franklin Avenue in every city in the US." Carlos said dismissively.

"And Carlos is a unique and special name." Keesha retorted.

"It is when you're me." Carlos replied.

"You're getting smacked whenever you get out of this car." Keesha warned.

"Then I'm staying here." Carlos smirked.

"You have to run out of gas sometime…" Keesha cackled.

"Not before I show you the coolest thing you'll ever see." Carlos grinned at her.

"If you're going to try and take your pants off again, I'm going to beat you senseless." Keesha threatened.

"No, we're going up there." Carlos pointed toward the mountain. "To the sign."

* * *

"You're not going to be discovered by acting like you're already famous!" Tim protested to Wanda, who was barreling down Hollywood Boulevard.

"Just wait." Wanda flashed a movie-star grin at Tim and kept walking.

"Wanda, seriously, STOP!" Tim yelled, but it was too late. Wanda tripped, flipping up her skirt as she landed face-down on the Walk of Fame. Tim rushed up to her and reached out a hand to help her up.

"Who did I fall on?" Wanda asked, apparently unconcerned that she'd just mooned Los Angeles. She took Tim's hand and smiled obligingly. "Michael Jackson. Hm." She read the star.

"That's not exactly the kind of exposure you wanted, was it?" Tim asked.

"Shut up." Wanda snapped. "Want lunch?"

"Yeah, I'm starving." Tim put a hand on his stomach.

"Okay, I'll pay." Wanda grinned. Her phone rang and she opened it. "What's up?"

"Hey, where are you?" Phoebe asked.

"The star sidewalk thing." Wanda replied.

"You went to the Walk of Fame without us?" Phoebe wondered. "Who's with you? Did you rob a store?"

"What?" Wanda asked. "Yes?"

"I knew it! Wanda, what did I tell you about shoplifting?" Phoebe sighed. Ralphie looked over at her quizzically.

"I fell and my girl parts might have touched Michael Jackson." Wanda added.

"Wha – what?" Phoebe's eyes widened. Ralphie reached over and grabbed the wheel, steering Phoebe away from a tree. He mouthed "PULL OVER." "Sorry, I just – what the hell?"

"I fell." Wanda said slowly. "And my privates –"

"I HEARD THE PART ABOUT YOUR PRIVATES." Phoebe cried. Ralphie raised his eyebrows. "I just don't understand how Michael Jackson is involved."

"Dude, if you had to fall and expose yourself to a star on the special sidewalk thing, why not Michael Jackson?" Wanda asked.

"Um, because he molests little boys, for one." Phoebe started.

"He made 'Thriller.'" Wanda interrupted.

"LITTLE BOYS." Phoebe repeated.

"THRILLER." Wanda yelled.

"LIKE WILL." Phoebe held the phone away from her ear. "MICHAEL JACKSON WOULD MOLEST YOUR BROTHER."

"AND I WOULD ALLOW IT." Wanda retorted, "BECAUSE HE MADE THRILLER."

* * *

Arnold was glad he was off the bus. It wasn't that he didn't like being around different kinds of people, it was that he was used to riding in a car with people he knew. He had lived a sheltered life, that was certain, and was a bit out of place as the only person on the bus at any given time who was related to someone with a beachfront condo. He looked out the window and quadruple-checked his maps. He was sure he was going to get killed, which made him worry. He ran through a list of bargains for his life. If nothing else, he could say he was a tourist and didn't mean to cause whatever destruction was inevitable by an unassuming Jewish boy in the wrong neighborhood. He thought back to his conversation with the guys about the girls in Compton, which made him wish Keesha was with him. She'd probably start shooting people. She'd protect him. Arnold had his moments of bravery, but not today. Today was a wimpy day.

At last, he got off the bus in Redondo Beach and found the condo. At last, he was home. The condo was empty. He saw the clothes D.A. was wearing in a neat pile on the floor. He took a deep breath and hoped she wasn't too turned off by him. He just didn't like being stuck with Wanda when she was going commando, and Tim wasn't really helping the situation. Arnold changed into his swim trunks and made a pile of his clothes next to D.A.'s. He took one last look at the two heaps of clothes and headed to the beach.

* * *

"We have to be able to get closer." Carlos sighed. It was nearly five o'clock, and he hadn't figured out a way to the sign yet. He and Keesha were sitting in the car, parked by the side of the road, looking toward the giant Hollywood sign.

"Yeah, if we want to get arrested." Keesha pointed at the cameras atop barbed wire fences.

"Why would they want to block it all off?" Carlos asked, then remembered he was with Keesha, who took these questions painfully literally.

"Vandals, for one." Keesha started. "And one lady committed suicide off the H before they fenced it off."

"You're lying." Carlos looked at her.

"Nope." Keesha almost smirked. "So what now?"

"Well, by now you're supposed to be swooning." Carlos confessed.

"And I was going to give you a cookie for how good you were being," Keesha said, supposedly to herself.

"I drive you through the beauty of the Hollywood hills and you won't even consider," Carlos began.

"TSST!" Keesha interrupted, pinching his neck.

"Ow!" Carlos flinched. "Can you not do that in public?"

"How do you think everyone else feels when you're an ass in public?" Keesha replied.

"Why are you making this about 'everyone else'?" Carlos leaned toward her. "No one else has mentioned it."

"Let's consider our alternatives." Keesha sat up straight. "Phoebe would let you get away with murder, because she's nice like that. Wanda would probably punch you in the groin – again."

"Please stop bringing that up." Carlos whimpered. "The memory – it's painful."

"Bad, Carlos." Keesha looked at him over her sunglasses. "Dorothy Ann – well, she's been taking the 'subtle' route, even though everyone knows guys don't understand subtlety. So you're stuck with me."

"I think you're doing this because you want me." Carlos tried to gaze meaningfully into Keesha's eyes, but the fact that she was wearing sunglasses made it difficult.

"You can stop making eyes at me now." Keesha raised her eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Carlos lied.

"I'm not doing this because I 'want' you. I'm doing this because I'm your friend and I want to _help_you." Keesha was cut off by Carlos pressing his lips against hers. She pushed him off of her. "What are you doing?"

"You want me!" Carlos argued. "I could see it in your face!"

"You're not listening!" Keesha nearly yelled. "You need to listen when people talk to you!"

"Fine." Carlos turned back to the wheel. "I guess we'll go back now."

"I'm having fun," Keesha sighed. "I just don't want you coming on to me when I'm telling you not to." She couldn't believe she was explaining this to a legal adult. "No means no, Carlos."

"I didn't try to rape you." Carlos kept looking straight ahead. "I just thought you'd like,"

"I told you no!" Keesha interrupted. "Maybe if you considered someone besides yourself for once and listened – even when people tell you what you don't want to hear – people wouldn't hate you so much."

"People hate me?" Carlos asked.

"Well, hate is a strong emotion." Keesha bit her lip. "I wouldn't say they hate you, but they want you to grow up and start respecting other people."

"And that's why you're beating me." Carlos was less into this idea now that it had less to do with getting snacks and more to do with being lectured by a pseudo-parent. "I don't want to play any more."

"It's not a game," Keesha protested. "I'm trying to help you see that you're acting like an idiot and help you change."

"You're forcing me to change. Maybe I don't want to." Carlos started the car indignantly. "Let's go."

Keesha sighed heavily. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Then maybe you should've just gone along with me," Carlos looked at her sternly. Keesha squared her jaw.

"If you're going to be like this, I'm going to take the bus back." She said slowly. "This is the kind of attitude that I'm talking about – other people matter. What I want to do and not to do matters. Don't try to bargain with it or guilt me into it, just respect what I want."

Carlos sat there, thinking about what had just happened. It slowly began to sink in. "Should we go back now?"

"Sure." Keesha said more softly. She took a deep breath and hoped things would blow over. The most endearing and infuriating thing about Carlos was that things would roll off his back like a duck.

"I love this song!" He exclaimed, turning up "What I Got," by Sublime. Once the air was clear and the two of them were rocking out again, Keesha was able to relax.

* * *

Phoebe pulled up to the condo to see the convertible was still gone. "Now what?" She asked, still uneasily trying to transfer her feelings to Tim.

"Want to go to the beach?" Ralphie smiled widely. "Your boyfriend might be there…"

Phoebe blushed. "Fine." She took the spare key out of its hiding place and opened the door. "I'll change in the bathroom." She offered, picking up her swimsuit quickly. Ralphie was still feeling very good from the baseball-induced euphoria caused by visiting the first major league stadium in his life. Although sad it had to be the Dodgers, he was glad it could only get better from there. Phoebe had been very nice in taking him to the stadium and in dealing with the thorny subject of his father. It made him really appreciate Phoebe more. She was a great friend. The idea of her liking him crossed his mind, but there was no way she could've known how much going to Dodger Stadium had meant to him. It couldn't have been on purpose, but Ralphie found him slightly hoping that it had been. He sighed. Feelings were confusing, which is why he preferred to think about other things, namely baseball. Phoebe emerged from the bathroom wearing a navy t-shirt with red print that read, "I DO IT WITH MY SOX ON" and board shorts over her suit. "Before you ask, yes, I love the Red Sox."

"Awesome." Ralphie smiled. "Are you going to swim?" He asked, tossing a towel around his shoulders.

"Sure," Phoebe shrugged.

"Are you even wearing a suit?" Ralphie wondered.

"Yes, I just like to wear something over it." Phoebe looked away. "I don't like feeling – exposed." She remembered Wanda's exposure problem earlier that day and shuddered slightly.

"Well unless you're wearing a thong or something, I think you'll be fine." Ralphie shrugged.

"I'm just so skinny," Phoebe said quietly as she locked the condo. "It's embarrassing."

"I know I don't have the best body in the world and I don't care," Ralphie said. He'd refrained from wearing a shirt. He wasn't incredibly toned, but it was apparent that he was an athlete. Phoebe smiled weakly.

* * *

"Hey, it's Carlos and Keesha!" Wanda pointed. Tim's eyes lit up.

"The car is in one piece!" He grinned.

"STOP!" Wanda yelled as the convertible zipped by. She took off after it, letting her purse fall to the ground. Tim quickly picked it up and looked around to make sure no one suspicious was going to try to take him on for it. He reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. He dialed Keesha.

"What's up, bitch?" Keesha asked.

"It's Tim." Tim explained. "Wanda's chasing you guys down the Boulevard."

"Yeah, we're trying to lose her." Keesha looked in the passenger side mirror. "Hey, Carlos, pull over. Let's let this crazy girl in."

"Are you sure she's okay?" Carlos asked, making a conscious effort to refrain from saying anything he normally would have.

"Well, she is Wanda…" Keesha joked.

"Stop flirting. Are you guys stopped yet?" Tim started jogging toward the car, making sure nothing fell out of Wanda's purse.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a sec." Keesha hung up the phone. Tim put Wanda's phone back in her purse, and looked inside to see why it was so full, only to discover at least five condoms. He shook his head and ran faster.

"I stopped them!" Wanda panted. "Did you take my purse?" She demanded, seeing Tim carrying her clutch.

"Why do you have several condoms in here?" Tim countered.

"I like to be prepared!" Wanda defended.

"When were you in the Boy Scouts?" Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"Why, is that where _you_ learned to use condoms?" Wanda retorted.

"No, it's because the motto is 'be prepared,'" Carlos started explaining. Keesha tried to stop him, but it was to no avail.

"Because I heard there are gay guys in the Boy Scouts, so you'd need," Wanda was interrupted by Tim clasping a hand over her mouth.

"That's enough!" Tim sighed, laughing. "Get in the car."

"I still think Carlos is gay." Wanda muttered.

"Want me to prove you wrong?" Carlos said before he thought about it, then looked at Keesha apologetically.

"That was alright."

"I don't know, it was kind of sleazy," Wanda negotiated.

"You're one to talk," Keesha rolled her eyes, "what with your little thongs and your jumbo pack of condoms…"

"Hey!" Wanda started.

"So I can be as sleazy as I want to Wanda?" Carlos asked.

"Sure." Keesha shrugged. "Just be warned that it might actually work on her."

Carlos shuddered and drove toward the condo.

* * *

"Do you see Arnold and D.A. anywhere?" Phoebe asked.

"I don't know if I want to," Ralphie furrowed his brow and spotted a couple. "Is that them?"

"I think so." Phoebe gulped. "Why don't you go check?"

"Why don't you?" Ralphie repeated.

"I asked you first." Phoebe tried.

"Fine." Ralphie sighed. "Why don't we both go up there? You know, for moral support."

"Okay, but I'm not talking." Phoebe stated.

"If you find a good stick, pick it up so we can poke them with it." Ralphie suggested.

"Good idea." Phoebe nodded. It felt like they were no older than ten again as they snuck closer to the couple. "Are they?" Phoebe didn't finish.

"It looks like it." Ralphie thought for a second. "HEY!" He yelled, and Arnold and D.A. looked up at them, then began to blush.

"Isn't having sex on a public beach a felony?" Phoebe asked.

"Um, murder is a felony, Phoebe." D.A. tried not to laugh. "And we weren't having sex."

"Yet," Ralphie whispered.

"But I thought you said they were!" Phoebe looked at Ralphie.

"I thought you were asking if they were Arnold and D.A.," Ralphie was confused.

"No, I was asking if they were having sex!" Phoebe lowered her voice and blushed a little when she said it. She wasn't very confident or experienced with these kinds of things.

Dorothy Ann's cell phone rang. "See, it's a good thing they interrupted us," Arnold grinned. "How was your day?"

"It was awesome!" Ralphie started, but D.A. waved at him to quiet down.

"Yeah, we're on the beach." Dorothy Ann explained. "Sure, you can come."

Arnold looked pleadingly at Phoebe. "Why did you take him to a baseball stadium?" Arnold didn't really care about sports, and listening to Ralphie talk about baseball wasn't among his many talents.

"I knew he'd appreciate it." Phoebe shrugged. It was still a bit hard to look at Arnold after her years-long crush on him had ended with their breakup a few months earlier. They were still good friends, but it had been difficult. Arnold looked at her knowingly. "It's not that!" Phoebe protested.

"Not what?" Ralphie asked.

"Nothing." Arnold and Phoebe responded in unison while D.A. waved at them to shut up.

"We're closer to the pier." D.A. said loudly, hoping her friends would get the hint.

"You guys better not be having sex." Wanda lectured. Carlos changed the track to "Californication."

"This is what they're doing," Carlos whispered to Keesha.

"Okay, that was so bad that I would TSST you, but it's true." Keesha laughed.

"Tell Carlos and Keesha that they're more than welcome to get down right next to us," D.A. suggested.

"That's disgustingly hot." Wanda raised her eyebrows. "I want in."

"You always want in." Keesha giggled. Carlos pulled into the driveway of the condo and stopped the car.

"Tim, will you," Wanda started, covering the phone.

"Let's just get our stuff," Tim interrupted. He grabbed Wanda's purse and headed toward the condo.

"Give it back!" Wanda cried, running toward Tim and leaving the phone on the seat of the car.

"Make me!" Tim winked, holding it above his head and making it nearly impossible for her to reach.

"We'll be there in a minute." Keesha picked up the phone. "See you then."

"Okay, bye." D.A. smiled.

* * *

An hour later, everyone was on the beach, relaxing and enjoying themselves. Ralphie was talking about his trip to Dodger Stadium to whomever would (or wouldn't) listen, D.A. chided Arnold for ditching her in the museum, and Wanda bragged about "exposing herself" to Michael Jackson. 

"Why exactly did you feel like you'd need so many condoms to go shopping?" Tim asked.

"Will you let that go?" Wanda replied.

"No. Tell me why you need them." Tim looked her straight in the eye. Finally, Wanda caved.

"In case I have a special meeting with someone famous." Wanda looked around.

"Now I've heard it all," Keesha shook her head in disbelief.

"Did you have any 'special meetings?'" Carlos asked Wanda, complete with air quotations.

"Not any more than you did," Wanda countered.

"How do you know?" Carlos argued.

"Because… you're Carlos." Wanda thought for a moment. "And I'm going to be famous first."

"That's an awesome shirt, Phoebe." Keesha laughed. "But aren't you going to swim?"

"It is a neat shirt," Carlos started, "but do you do it at all?"

"Do what?" Phoebe asked, looking around at her friends who all raised their eyebrows. "Oh – oh… I didn't realize that's what it meant."

"What did you think it meant?" Wanda laughed. "Or 'actors do it on stage'?"

"OH," Phoebe covered her mouth.

"And you say she's had," Carlos whispered, but Keesha smacked him with a loud "TSST".

"I didn't think about it at all," Phoebe defended. "I just thought it was funny."

"Hi guys," an energetic young man (in his mid- to late-20s) said as he walked up to the group, much to Phoebe's relief. "I was wondering if any of you were interested in a modeling or acting career?"

"No thanks," Dorothy Ann turned away and picked up her copy of _The Kite Runner._

"Really? Because you're just what we're looking for." The man pressed. How old are you kids?

"18," Wanda replied quickly. "Except her." She pointed at Phoebe. "She's 17."

"Hmm," the man eyed Phoebe, who felt exponentially more uncomfortable every second he did so. "She's okay, she's tall enough, but she doesn't have the right proportions."

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked weakly.

"You've got a bit too much stomach and not enough of an hourglass figure, if you know what I mean. If you were to have some plastic surgery or something…" The man continued.

"Oh." Phoebe interrupted, absent-mindedly covering her stomach. "No thanks."

"What about me?" Wanda asked.

"You're too short." The man replied quickly, "and you don't have enough of an exotic look."

"What about me? I'm tall, exotic, handsome…" Carlos stood up and struck a heroic pose: head held high, hands on his hips, and gazing into the distance.

"Um, you're just – not what we're looking for." The man replied. "We don't really need any Latinos or men. We're really looking for younger women." He looked over at Keesha.

"No way." Keesha replied without looking up.

"Have a great day then!" The man waved and walked off toward some naïve-looking girls.

"Can you believe him?" Carlos asked. "He considered Phoebe and he wants girls?" Phoebe punched him in the arm. "OW! Keesha, will you yell at her or something?"

"No, you deserved that." Keesha sighed. "It could've been worse."

"It was like being punched by a rock!" Carlos rubbed his sore bicep.

"Then don't be mean to Phoebe!" Keesha laughed.

"They're totally going to do it." Wanda whispered to Tim. "And Phoebe won't know what that means."

"I heard that!" Phoebe snapped. "And I know what it means!"

"Are you going to lend them a condom?" Tim asked more quietly.

"What is with you and the condoms, jeez!" Wanda looked at Tim, confused. "Why is it such a big deal?"

"I guess it shouldn't be," Tim shrugged, "I mean, you did go commando on our shopping trip."

"I wanted to be able to feel real designer clothes!" Wanda argued.

"That's disgusting." Tim wrinkled his nose.

"I wasn't going to try on any pants," Wanda insisted.

"It's still gross." Tim smirked.

"You think it's hot." Wanda realized slowly. "You can't stop thinking about it because you like it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Tim looked away. "I'm going to go back to the condo and order a pizza." He got up and walked away abruptly.

"Why do people have such a hard time admitting that I'm right?" Wanda wondered.

"Because it rarely happens?" Keesha asked.

"Do I really have too much of a stomach?" Phoebe looked down at her midriff.

"Maybe if you just pop that shirt off, we can take a look," Keesha suggested.

"Um, that seems a little gay." DA raised her eyebrows.

"No, it's cool." Carlos nodded. Keesha looked at him sternly. "Phoebe likes the dick."

"I what?" Phoebe blushed.

"You like. The dick." Keesha explained slowly. Carlos was surprised and relieved that he wasn't being beat.

"Do I get a snack for helping you out?" He whispered.

"Only if you're in a calm, submissive state." Keesha laughed.

"He is trying so hard to get into her pants," D.A. whispered to Arnold. "I don't understand why she's letting him be such an ass!"

"He's already a lot better than he was." Arnold pointed out. "I think it's because of the Carlos snacks."

"You know, I would've given him a chance if he knew how to behave." D.A. sighed. "But I would've gone crazy with that – I couldn't praise him for steps in the right direction. He's too far off. I thought the only way to correct him would be to wait until he was good for a whole day, then give him a treat."

"I can't believe I'm talking to you about dog training – about Carlos." Arnold laughed.

DA giggled and shrugged. "I'm much more of a cat person anyway."

"And you don't really train cats, do you?" Arnold asked. His parents had allergies or something, so he never had pets as a kid.

"They train you." DA laughed. "Dogs have owners. Cats have staff."

"Phoebe, you aren't fat." Ralphie sighed as Phoebe pinched her stomach again. "That agent was a jerk anyway."

"I know I'm not fat, but I didn't think I had any belly." Phoebe said sadly. "And about the proportions thing,"

"Well, you're not exactly – um, endowed…" Ralphie started, not wanting to make it seem like all he did was stare at girls' chests or anything. He wasn't 16 any more, after all.

"You're built like a 12-year-old boy." Keesha pointed out in her abrupt way that always shut Ralphie up.

"I know." Phoebe frowned. "I just don't like hearing I need major work done in order to be even remotely attractive."

"Don't be so down on yourself." Arnold assured. "The guy's just looking for Barbie dolls anyway."

"Like your new girlfriend," Phoebe thought. She and Arnold had dated through most of high school, but differences in their futures (or something like that, Phoebe wasn't entirely sure) had been the end of them. "I'm going to go back to the condo and wait for the food." She stood up abruptly.

"Way to scare her off, Ralphie, you perv." Carlos scoffed. "Now I bet she thinks you only stare at her boobs – or her lack of boobs – and her ass, or…"

"That's enough," Keesha said warningly.

"Yes ma'am." Carlos conceded.

"Wow, she is good." D.A. remarked.

"I do what I can." Keesha brushed off her shoulder.

"If you keep it up at this pace, I think I may be able to be in the same room as Carlos soon." D.A. giggled.

"Hey, that's just mean." Carlos pointed at her sternly. "And you know what? I'm sick of you being mean to me."

"Well I was sick of you verbally molesting me." D.A. folded her arms.

"STOP FIGHTING!" Keesha bellowed. Arnold winced. He wasn't too fond of people yelling.

"I'm going to go check on the pizza." Ralphie said quietly and took off running toward the condo.

* * *

Wanda wasn't in the habit of thinking too much about the various men and boys she ended up with, which made it a bit easier for her. She also wasn't in the habit of being particularly quiet or anything. Her younger brother, Will, had given up trying to get her to quiet down, instead accepting the fact that his sister was a loud person and was moving out soon. Tim, on the other hand, was a lot more reflective, and was having a hard time believing he was having what would certainly turn out to be a one-night stand with such a loud, boisterous girl.

Then again, Phoebe couldn't believe, nor look away from, what she saw as she opened the door to the condo. Her jaw dropped. Tim and Wanda watched her turn as red as the lettering on her shirt. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Well, Phoebe, when two people are –" Wanda was interrupted by Tim covering her mouth.

"Could you give us a few minutes?" Tim asked sweetly. Phoebe shut the door, turned around, then closed her mouth slowly. She reached into her purse and scribbled out a note saying she was going down to Ralph's for some food and got in the van. Driving was supposed to keep her from crying. Her L.A. mix was still in and she turned up the volume.

"What brings me down is love, 'cause I can never get enough…" She sang along quietly

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Wanda asked. It was uncharacteristic of her to get all sappy after sex, but sometimes it happened.

"Uh," Tim thought for a moment, but couldn't for the life of him figure out what to say. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I do, stupid, I asked!" Wanda laughed, but Tim was still a bit put off by her aggressiveness.

"I don't know why, but I have 'Tiny Dancer'" in my head." Tim confessed.

"Sing it to me." Wanda demanded.

"Uh… okay." Tim cleared his throat.

* * *

"You think the pizza's here yet?" Arnold asked.

"Maybe." D.A. shrugged. "I don't want to go in yet, though."

"Maybe you two should go check," Arnold suggested.

"Or you two could." Keesha retorted.

"But then they couldn't," Carlos began, but Keesha and D.A. gave him firm looks.

"Don't even start." D.A. couldn't believe she was at ease enough with Carlos to seriously joke. What was even weirder was that it worked.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Chapter title is from "A Long December," by the Counting Crows

The Lou Gehrig's disease line is from a video on YouTube called "Pissah -- A Red Sox Fan's Lament"

"Carlos Avenue" and "Franklin Avenue" are indeed real and in Los Angeles. I thought it was cool.

Phoebe's "I Do It With My Sox On" shirt exists. I found it at Fenway Outlet. It's awesome. I want one.

Ralph's is a grocery store, in case you forgot

I couldn't help a reprise of "Tiny Dancer." I tried to resist, but I just couldn't.

Songs on the mix from this chapter:  
"A Long December," by the Counting Crows  
"What I Got," by Sublime (it mentions Long Beach)  
"Californication," by the Red Hot Chili Peppers  
"Goodnight, L.A." by the Counting Crows


	4. chapter 4

**This here is the last chapter. Thank you to both people reading this.  
**

* * *

**hold me closer, tony danza**

**5:40 p.m.**

**the same Saturday**

As Tim was warming up and building the courage (or the drunkenness) required to sing "Tiny Dancer" to Wanda, Ralphie picked Phoebe's note off the door. After puzzling over it for a moment, he decided to walk the few blocks to Ralph's and see if he could figure out what was going on. He put the note back a little bit more crooked than he'd found it.

Wanda basked in Tim's attentions. She'd never had a guy sing to her before, and found herself loving it. "This song really is about me," she thought.

"Hold me closer, tiny dancer," Tim crooned, pulling her close.

"What the hell kind of kinky –?" Carlos just stopped. "You realize we eat meals on that table, right?"

"Go. Away." Wanda snapped.

"Yes ma'am." Arnold shut the door. "So, now what do we do?"

"I want to wash my eyes." Keesha whined.

"There's an ocean over there." Carlos offered.

"That's a bad idea." Keesha replied.

"So, now what do we do?" D.A. repeated Arnold's question.

"Where are Phoebe and Ralphie?" Arnold wondered. Keesha and Carlos looked at each other knowingly (although they were speculating).

"Phoebe left a note." D.A. grabbed the note from the door. "She's at Ralph's."

"They went all the way back to his house?" Carlos raised his eyebrows at Keesha.

"Carlos, you _always_ point out that Ralphie has the same name as Ralph's." Keesha rolled her eyes.

"What if he kidnapped her and this is what she managed to write to give us a hint?" Carlos grabbed the note, excitedly.

"You watch way too many movies." D.A. sighed.

"Well, you tell me what you think the note means, Nancy Drew." Carlos folded his arms.

"That Phoebe went to the grocery store." D.A. replied slowly.

"That's not what I read." Carlos countered.

"Are you illiterate or something?" Arnold asked. "She's at _Ralph's_."

"And where is Ralph?" Carlos looked around to illustrate his point. "And she's at Ralph's _what_?"

"Just drop it." D.A. sighed. She banged on the door. "Are you two done yet?"

"Hold on!" Wanda yelled.

"That's so unhygienic." Arnold went pale. "I don't want to eat off that table."

"No one does." D.A. added. "Actually, Carlos might."

"Ew, NO!" Carlos replied. "I may be dumb, but I'm not _stupid._"

* * *

Phoebe had managed to stop crying by the time she passed the produce section for the third time. She took a few deep breaths and kept circling the store, pretending she was shopping. She couldn't believe that Tim, who supposedly liked her, was with Wanda. Actually, she could believe it. Life had a nice way of flipping her the bird this way. She wondered why she'd actually thought she had a chance with Tim in the first place. She bit the inside corner of her mouth to keep herself from weeping over the cereal. She was having a good look at the selection when Ralphie interrupted her. 

"Hey," he half-panted.

"Hi." Phoebe said softly, looking back at the varieties of corn flakes, pretending to be enthralled with the selection of fruits that came in them nowadays.

"Did you hear about Tim and Wanda?" Ralphie asked, not wanting to reveal more than he had to in the unlikely case that Phoebe hadn't heard.

"I saw them." Phoebe replied, her eyes welling up again, causing her to bite harder on her cheek.

"Yuck." Ralphie tried to figure out what was going on with the corn flakes that was intriguing her so much.

"Yeah, I should've seen it coming." Phoebe closed her eyes and wished she hadn't said anything.

"I don't think anyone did." Ralphie offered encouragingly.

"Guys always go for Wanda." Phoebe said almost inaudibly, then decided it would be best to change the subject. "Did you follow me here?"

"I read your note." Ralphie looked at her ear, since she wasn't turning to look at him. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thanks." Phoebe glanced over at him. "I just couldn't believe it. I mean, if he liked me, would he really go out and do this?"

"About that," Ralphie started. Phoebe looked at him expectantly. "I'm not entirely sure he did like you."

"Then why did you tell me he did?" Phoebe was getting the closest Ralphie had ever seen her to angry.

"Because I thought he did. I was pretty sure about it, and then this happened." Ralphie confessed. "I'm really sorry. I should've kept my mouth shut."

"Yeah." Phoebe sighed. "Oh well, it's in the past."

"So it's okay?" Ralphie ventured, half expecting to be slapped across the face.

"I guess. Let's go back." Phoebe shrugged. She was too emotionally worn out to care much about Ralphie embellishing the truth. "I'm sick of staring at the cereal anyway."

* * *

"Since Tim is busy, what do you say we take a spin in the convertible?" Carlos offered, trying to break the tension. 

"You already did that today, remember?" Dorothy Ann sighed, exasperated. "If you'd taken my car, I would've called the police on you."

"Spending the night in jail in L.A. would probably get me much girls." Carlos thought aloud.

"Many." D.A. and Arnold corrected simultaneously.

"I know, I was being funny." Carlos rolled his eyes.

"Or an idiot." Keesha smiled.

"That too." Carlos indulged her a little bit.

"You're admitting you're an idiot?" Keesha was aghast. She was caught off-guard for a moment, but reached into her purse and pulled out a cookie. "Here, have a Carlos snack."

"That's so degrading." D.A. shook her head. Arnold kept his mouth shut. He preferred to let Dorothy Ann be the outspoken one. Though not shy, he wasn't as free with his opinions as she was. "Why are you letting her treat you like a dog?"

"Because I get free food." Carlos gobbled down the cookie.

"Her treating you like a dog doesn't magically make you a dog." Arnold started. "I bet you can't lick your crotch."

"How do you know?" Carlos asked as the girls made faces of disgust at each other.

"You wouldn't be bothering with us if you could." Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Am I right or am I right?"

"You're right." Carlos grinned mischievously.

"That's disgusting." D.A. scoffed.

"You're disgusting." Carlos countered.

"Clever." Keesha shook her head.

"You just wish Arnold was training _you._" Carlos pressed D.A.

"I'm not going to fight with you." D.A. took a deep breath. "I don't want to give you that satisfaction."

"You're kind of a bitch, you know that?" Carlos asked before getting slapped hard across the face.

"Stop picking on each other." Keesha sighed. "How are you doing, Arnold?"

"Um, fine, thanks." Arnold looked awkwardly at D.A. and Carlos, who were still angry. "Oh, look who decided to show up!" He exhaled hard at the sight of Phoebe's crummy van.

Before Ralphie's feet even hit the ground, Carlos had run up to the van, demanding an explanation. "Why did you kidnap Phoebe?"

"What are you talking about?" Ralphie asked.

"Carlos is a bit illiterate. Don't mind him." Keesha pushed him aside. "Did you get anything for us?"

"No, sorry." Phoebe shrugged, getting out of the van slowly. Arnold was staring at her. He knew she'd been crying. He knew the subtle redness around her eyes that she couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. "I'm fine." She assured him firmly.

"You sure?" Arnold asked. His blue eyes shone at her slightly pleadingly. "If you need to talk…"

"I'll be okay." Phoebe smiled weakly at him. "Is it safe to go in there now?"

"Who knows?" D.A. smiled halfheartedly. "I'd go back to the beach, but I'm hungry."

"The pizza should be here soon." Arnold offered. "I could call you when it comes."

"You're sweet." D.A. smiled. She liked dealing with Arnold much more than Carlos. Arnold didn't try to push her buttons, whereas it seemed Carlos got some weird high off making her angry. Phoebe turned back to the others who weren't in sickeningly cute couples. Carlos was interrogating Ralphie.

"Did you get voted out of the condo?" Carlos joked.

"No." Ralphie retorted. "I would beat you at Survivor so hard, you'd – hurt."

"I stay around for their intelligent debates." Keesha remarked snidely to Phoebe, who smiled.

"They never disappoint." Phoebe added, then, as she met Keesha's eyes, continued, "and I'm perfectly fine. I just want some food." Keesha raised her eyebrows. "Honestly."

"Okay." Keesha stared at Phoebe. She knew better than to believe Phoebe's feeble attempts at lying. These were boy-tears, and Keesha knew it. "If you need me to beat up Ralphie, let me know." She whispered.

"I'm going to use you as an excuse, okay Pheebs?" Carlos paused for at most a quarter of a second. "Thanks. OPEN UP, PHOEBE'S DYING FROM … FOOD DEFICIENCY. SHE HAS NO FAT STORES. SHE'S FADING FAST."

"Hold on!" Two voices replied in unison.

"You're killing Pheebso!" Carlos yelled. "I hope you can live with yourselves!" He turned to the skeptical crowd of his friends outside the door. "Act like Phoebe's dying."

"Oh, I'm so sad that Phoebe, my best friend ever, is dying!" Keesha cried melodramatically.

"Why aren't you guys _acting_?" Carlos hissed.

"I don't think I'd make noise if I was dying." Phoebe surmised.

"Because it's a dumb idea." Ralphie retorted. Keesha pinched his neck, making the "TSST" sound Carlos was now familiar with. "What was that?"

"You got TSSTed!" Carlos laughed.

"Pizza's here." Dorothy Ann said loudly. "Carlos, will you knock on the door and let Wanda and Tim know?"

"Please," Keesha added, giving a look to Carlos.

"Sure." Carlos looked slightly disappointed as he knocked on the door. "Phoebe's going to pull through if you let us in now!"

"But we'd rather you keep your melodrama going." Tim grinned as he opened the door.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face." Ralphie ordered.

"What grin?" Tim continued smiling.

"I'm getting the disinfectant." Arnold headed to the closet with the cleaning supplies.

"What are you, some kind of … germ killer?" Wanda asked.

"Yes." Arnold grabbed a spray bottle and began to squirt everything he thought the couple had touched.

"I'll help." D.A. picked up a stray rag and began wiping the surfaces.

"You guys are crazy." Wanda lifted a piece of pizza out of the box, letting the cheese stretch out and delighting in it. "This looks great, guys."

"I think I nearly have everything sterile." Arnold sighed. "You two are _disgusting_."

"Your mom's disgusting." Wanda retorted, her mouth full of pizza.

"Your face is disgusting." Keesha added, instantly regretting getting involved.

"Your mom's face is disgusting!" Wanda giggled.

"This argument is getting dumber by the second." Tim shook his head lightly.

"Dude, stop smiling." Ralphie demanded. "It's getting creepy."

"So, Pheebolino," Carlos changed the subject to the music that was constantly playing. "Why did you put 'California Dreamin'' on the CD if we're from California?"

"Because it says 'I'll be safe and warm if I was in L.A.'" Ralphie replied before Phoebe could open her mouth. "Right?"

"Right." Phoebe nodded.

"I still think it's stupid." Carlos rolled his eyes.

"Do you want us to put in one of your CDs?" Keesha asked, looking at D.A. and giggling.

* * *

Months earlier, Keesha and D.A. had been hanging out and noticed that Carlos had left two unlabeled CDs in D.A.'s room. 

"Let's listen to them!" Keesha's eyes widened with delight.

"Fine, but we're not putting them in the computer. I'm afraid he put Trojans or something on there." D.A. said skeptically.

"I doubt it." Keesha grabbed a disc and put it in D.A.'s stereo. "He can't even think 'Trojan' without laughing."

"True." D.A. laughed. The music began. "Is this rap?" She seemed confused. A distinctive horn section joined the beat.

"It's better." Keesha laughed. "It's Mexican rap."

"Not bad." D.A. hit "next."

"Does Carlos even speak Spanish?" Keesha asked.

"I think he can swear." D.A. offered.

"So why is he listening to Mexican rap if he doesn't know Spanish?"

"_Ay, mija,_ I don't know." D.A. shrugged.

"YOU know Spanish?" Keesha gasped. "Who doesn't know Spanish?"

"We're in California." D.A. pointed out. "Everyone knows Spanish except you, Phoebe, and Carlos."

"Good point." Keesha hit next. "I wonder if this whole CD is rap." After a few songs, the music's mood changed. "Jackpot…" She grinned. A few light strumming guitars gave way to a voice that Keesha figured had been on Mexico's version of _American Idol_. "I just knew he listened to sappy love songs."

"Why would he listen to this?" D.A. was confused.

"I wonder if he named it 'A Tribute That I Don't Entirely Understand to My Darling Dorothy Ann.'" Keesha teased. "Alas, we'll never know unless you put the CD in the computer…"

"No way." D.A. shook her head. "He may not be able to say 'Trojan' without laughing, but he can say 'virus.'"

"He'd do it just so he could give you a virus." Keesha teased. "He's too pathetic."

"It's really sad." D.A. sighed. "I wish I knew…"

"How to get him to quit you?" Keesha laughed.

"I wasn't going to say that." D.A. rolled her eyes.

"You so were." Keesha retorted.

"If he were a gay cowboy, we wouldn't be having this problem." D.A. mused.

* * *

"It_is _a five CD changer," Arnold pointed out. "I could put in one of yours." 

"Here, put this in." Ralphie opened a CD wallet and handed him a CD. Tim followed suit.

"Aren't you going to give Arnold a CD?" DA asked slyly. She and Keesha tried in vain to suppress their laughter.

"What's so funny about my CDs?" Carlos asked, confused about D.A. and Keesha giggling.

"Do you remember those two CDs you left in my room?" DA managed.

"What CDs?" Carlos furrowed his brow, hoping they didn't mean what he thought they might mean.

"The ones that sound like they came straight from a Tijuana prom." Keesha laughed.

"I burned those for Mikey." Carlos replied quickly.

"He's lying. Look at those lyin' eyes." D.A. giggled.

"Good song." Ralphie remarked to Phoebe, who smiled. She was glad Keesha and D.A. were picking on Carlos so she could avoid the inevitable talk with Keesha. Keesha's interrogation techniques had been developed and honed on Phoebe, and there was virtually nothing Phoebe knew that Keesha couldn't find out. Her only hope was to start feeling better and fast, and that Keesha would get distracted.

"I wanted to see if you named the disc something like 'For The Most Beautiful Woman in the World' or something equally cheesy, but D.A. wouldn't put the CD in her computer." Keesha continued. Carlos was actually embarrassed, something that rarely happened.

"Why didn't you?" Arnold asked.

"He could've put Trojans on there!" D.A. pointed at Carlos.

"Heh heh, Trojans." Carlos laughed. "More like magnums if it's me."

"More like a thimble." Tim retorted. Carlos grew red with indignation and embarrassment. "You can't argue with me. We had gym together last year."

"You've seen him naked?" D.A. gasped. "Isn't that weird?"

"Only if you make it weird." Tim shrugged. "I'm just comfortable with my sexuality, unlike other people." He looked at Ralphie.

"I can play football _because_ I'm comfortable with my sexuality." Ralphie argued. "Carlos is the one who pretends he's never seen a guy's butt."

"I don't look at their asses, perv." Carlos argued.

"Carlos, you played football for years. There's nothing else to look at when everyone's all crouched down at the line of scrimmage…" Ralphie started.

"I don't want to talk about it." Carlos interrupted.

"Didn't you slap more ass than anyone else?" Arnold prodded.

"More than everyone else combined." Tim corrected.

"Okay, that's enough picking on Carlos." Keesha jumped in. "I think I need to have a chat with Phoebe." Phoebe swore under her breath. Keesha grabbed her by the elbow and they went into the other room.

"I love cheese." Wanda said after a moment of silence. "I love how it's stretchy."

"You're incredibly easily amused." Arnold stifled a laugh.

"I'm happier than most people who are boring." Wanda replied.

"You know, Carlos," Dorothy Ann started.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" Carlos snapped. "I know I was all sleazy and stuff, but that's no reason to humiliate me!"

"Touchy." Wanda bit her lip.

"Seriously." Tim looked at Wanda with his eyebrows raised.

"You two need to stop looking at each other like that. It's giving me the creeps." Ralphie shuddered.

"Like what?" Tim asked.

"Like…_that._" Ralphie explained, frustrated. "Like you know something we don't know. Well, we all heard and/or saw what you did, so it's not a fun little secret."

"And it makes some of us want to puke." Arnold added, recalling the large number of surfaces he'd needed to disinfect.

"You're just jealous." Wanda gloated.

"You said that when we were worried about you having dyslexia too." D.A. said.

"When in Rome." Wanda added.

"What's sad is that you say that because you know it'll make us laugh, not because you get the joke." Arnold laughed.

"So?" Wanda replied. "I don't need to know what it means."

"And you thought you were immune to chicken pox because one couldn't 'pock' you in your townhouse." Ralphie added.

"I THOUGHT YOU GOT CHICKEN POX FROM CHICKENS. IS THAT SO STUPID?" Wanda yelled.

"I like the idea of roasting everyone." Carlos laughed. "I already had my turn. So did you guys hear about the time Wanda thought she was dying but she was really just thirsty?"

* * *

"I'm going to give you one chance upfront." Keesha said solemnly. "Spill it all now and you'll avoid the worst of it." 

"I – I just – " Phoebe stammered, trying to decide which was better: to be noble and keep her mouth shut or to tell Keesha everything, as she probably would eventually. "It's a long story and I was confused."

"Continue." Keesha folded her arms. Phoebe wondered if she'd ever considered a job in the FBI or the CIA.

"Shouldn't you make sure they're not bullying Carlos?" Phoebe asked weakly.

"What is it you're hiding?" Keesha asked rhetorically. "I think you're pregnant with Arnold's kid."

"WHAT?!" Phoebe squealed. "Arnold and I broke up three months ago."

"And you're carrying his child. That's why you're so moody!" Her eyes lit up.

"No it isn't!" Phoebe argued.

"So why did you run to Ralph's? For a _pregnancy test._" Keesha continued.

"No!" Phoebe cried. "I went to Ralph's because I walked in on Tim and Wanda."

"But why Ralph's?" Keesha thought aloud. "To get Wanda a pregnancy test?" She turned to Phoebe.

"I don't care if Wanda's pregnant." Phoebe looked up at Keesha from where she was slouched on the bed. Keesha was pacing around the room, an act which she thought helped her think. "I mean… it doesn't matter to me, I guess."

"So why didn't you just stay outside the condo? Why were you crying?" Keesha pressed.

"Because…" Phoebe sighed and decided to give up her noble attempt at remaining silent. "I was starting to get a crush on Tim because Ralphie told me that Tim liked me, then I came and saw them… copulating and it made me cry."

"Oh right, they were playing the interrogate Phoebe game." Keesha recalled. "Sorry I couldn't help with that."

"I'm glad you were busy." Phoebe replied. "Or they'd know everything and it never would've happened."

"What never would've happened?" Keesha asked, hoping Phoebe was in a talking mood.

"I never would've run off and cried." Phoebe sighed.

"Why's that?" Keesha asked.

* * *

"STOP IT!" Wanda yelled. "Stop making me look stupid!" 

"You did it, we're just helping." Tim laughed.

"I'm never sleeping with you again." Wanda huffed. "You weren't even that good."

"I was _kidding_." Tim sighed. "I was just teasing you."

"I'm dead serious though." Wanda squared her jaw.

"Then you aren't riding all the way home in the convertible if you're going to be grumpy." Tim smiled faintly.

"I'm not being grumpy; you're being mean." Wanda retorted.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea." Arnold said uneasily. He was wondering what the guys especially would have to say about him. "Maybe we should finish the game of Truth or Dare."

"Yeah!" Wanda dropped her sulkiness immediately. "Now that we don't have Phoebe to wimp out on us, it'll actually be _fun_."

"Uh, Tim," Ralphie started. "Could I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure." Tim followed Ralphie into the kitchen.

"You two are worse than girls!" Carlos called after them. "And what the hell is this?" He asked, pointing to the stereo, which was playing Fleetwood Mac.

"It's Fleetwood Mac." Ralphie explained. "They're _classic_."

"It's sissy music." Carlos retorted. "I'd rather listen to Keesha's Billy Idol Megamix."

"THE GANGSTERS LISTEN TO FLEETWOOD MAC IN _GOODFELLAS_." Ralphie yelled more loudly than he intended to. "Besides," he cleared his throat. "This song has cowbell in it."

"So it does," Arnold remarked.

"Anyway," Ralphie turned to Tim. "I know who Phoebe likes."

"Oh really? So do I. Wanda told me." Tim remarked.

"She likes you." The two guys said in unison.

"What?" Tim asked.

"I told her you liked her and that's why we wanted to know." Ralphie explained. "I told her while we were at the ballpark."

"Why do you think she went there with you in the first place?" Tim asked. "And I didn't like Phoebe while we were here."

"You did before, though, right?" Ralphie asked.

"Yeah, like a month ago." Tim shrugged. "But Wanda told me she likes_you_."

"What?" Ralphie wondered. "That doesn't make any sense! I don't believe you."

Just then, a lull between songs, a lull in the conversation, and a breakthrough occurred. "YOU LIKE RALPHIE?" Keesha screeched from the other room. Although the door was closed, Keesha's voice carried very well.

"What more proof do you need?" Tim smirked.

"Well, that was awkward." Carlos laughed uneasily as "Eyes Without a Face" began to play.

"Look, you got your Billy Idol wish." Dorothy Ann pointed out.

"Keesha! Get out here!" Arnold called.

Keesha emerged from the bedroom, dragging a flustered and bright red Phoebe behind her. "Ooh, my CD!" She squealed. "Thanks, Arn. I don't know why I love synthesizer 'clapping' so much…" She mused, her eyes glazing over, then she began to sing, "Eyes without a face, got no human grace, your eyes without a face…"

"She's gone." Carlos whispered.

"Are you okay, Phoebe?" D.A. asked.

"I'm fine." Phoebe practically whispered.

"I bet you five bucks she won't look at you." Tim whispered to Ralphie.

"She was acting normal at the park." Ralphie replied.

"She went alone with you to a baseball venue." Tim tilted his head skeptically. "It's as close to asking you on a date as she's going to get. And what did you do? You redirected her?"

"I didn't know!" Ralphie argued. "I apologized to her at Ralph's."

"When did you go to Ralph's?" Tim wondered.

"While you and Wanda were going at it. Phoebe drove to the store after seeing you guys and she was pretty distraught." Ralphie explained.

"So you chased her?" Tim smiled.

"Stop smiling like that!" Ralphie sighed.

"So, Phoebe: truth or dare?" Carlos grinned.

"I'm not playing." Phoebe looked at the floor.

"Okay, then Keesha, what was it you yelled about Phoebe?" Carlos asked.

"I didn't mean to yell it!" Keesha snapped out of her Billy Idol nirvana for a moment. "Sorry, Pheebs. Look at the bright side," she added more quietly. "He hasn't run screaming in the other direction yet like that Casey guy sophomore year."

"Thanks for reminding me." Phoebe said glumly.

"That's what friends are for." Keesha grinned.

"Why don't you guys come join us?" Carlos asked deviously.

"Carlos, please." Phoebe pleaded.

"Let's go to the beach!" Wanda blurted out. "It's getting dark. It'll be awesome."

"Anybody got anything better to suggest?" D.A. asked.

"Nope." Carlos shrugged.

"I can't believe you didn't see it!" Tim laughed at Ralphie. "She practically jumps at the chance of taking you to the ballpark, and then there was the beach thing…"

"I thought you liked her and I was doing you a favor!" Ralphie insisted. "Then you had to go and blow it."

"You were totally just deflecting your feelings onto me." A corner of Tim's mouth went up. "I saw the way you were flirting with her."

"I was being nice." Ralphie defended.

"Right." Tim grinned.

"Stop it." Ralphie punched Tim in the tricep. "Let's just go to the beach. Try to refrain from giving a repeat performance of this evening, okay?"

"So…" Wanda batted her eyelashes at Tim.

"We can't. Ralphie will kill me." Tim laughed a bit.

"Damn." Wanda pouted. "I hate Ralphie sometimes."

"Everyone hates Ralphie sometimes." Tim reassured her. "He's a pain in the ass."

Phoebe saw Ralphie wander away from Tim, and panicked. "I'm going to change now." She said to a spot off to his right and ran into the room and shut the door. A small click a moment later assured them that the door was locked.

"Gosh, I feel terrible for embarrassing Phoebe." Keesha sighed, looking sidelong at Ralphie.

"Yeah, you did a pretty good job." Ralphie scratched his nose nonchalantly.

"You know what it means when your nose itches?" Carlos asked. "It means someone is thinking of you."

"I was supposed to call my mom," Ralphie started.

"No, like SOMEONE someone is thinking of you…" Carlos pointed at the locked door.

"Carlos," Keesha warned playfully. "We can embarrass Ralphie tomorrow."

"Oh, fine." Carlos grinned.

"You two are disgusting." Ralphie said softly. He then realized that he was still wearing his swimming trunks. He thought for a moment, then knocked on the door.

"I'm busy!" Phoebe called.

"Okay." Ralphie said weakly. Talking to Phoebe now wasn't going to happen.

"What's going on?" D.A. asked.

"She's changing." Ralphie explained. "But I don't think she ever changed from when we were on the beach earlier."

D.A. laughed weakly. "Poor Phoebe."

"So… I've been really good, haven't I?" Carlos asked.

"Sure." Keesha replied, pulling a t-shirt over her swimsuit.

"Can I get extra cookies?" Carlos begged.

"Man, you're persistent!" Keesha laughed. "And I thought my dog was bad. Now I'm just glad he can't talk. He'd probably be a lot like you."

"Is that a good thing?" Carlos asked.

Keesha sighed. "Well, of course it is."

"It seems like a backhanded compliment." Carlos said suspiciously.

"You aren't as cute as Pongo." Keesha confessed. "But no one is, and few dogs even get close."

"I always thought Wanda's dog was cute." Carlos tried.

"Wanda's dog is fugly." Keesha laughed. "That poor thing is everything that's wrong with backyard breeders."

"You sound like Phoebe." Carlos smiled.

"She and I agree on lots of things." Keesha sighed. "I feel terrible for embarrassing her." She sat on the bed and rested her chin in her hands.

"You didn't mean to." Carlos sat next to her. "She's a big girl. She'll be fine." He assured.

"If she ever comes out of that room." Keesha shook her head glumly. "I should've kept my suspicions to myself."

"I know it sounds bad, but I'm glad someone got as embarrassed as I did." Carlos confessed. "The guys really brought up a bunch of stuff I'm not necessarily proud of."

"You're being… vulnerable?" Keesha turned and looked at Carlos, aghast. "This is amazing! I didn't think you had it in you!"

Carlos could only think of supremely cheesy things to say at this, so instead he just put his arm around Keesha and kissed her. She put her arms around him and pulled him closer, her lips parting slightly.

"Arnold, I think someone sprinkled Spanish Fly in the condo." Ralphie remarked, indicating Carlos and Keesha in the master bedroom.

"Dammit." Arnold sighed. "Stop it!" He called. "Stop it NOW!"

"Sorry." Carlos smiled a bit. "Actually, I'm not, but I'm sorry it pisses you off."

"Will someone please get Phoebe out?" D.A. worried. "I don't want her staying locked in that room."

"I will." Wanda offered. She rummaged around in a kitchen drawer until she found a toothpick. "This should do it. Now you guys get lost – all of you. I'll call you if I can't find you." The rest of the gang left for the beach. "Phoebe, I'm going to unlock this door. Everyone's gone except you and me."

"You're lying." Phoebe replied.

"I'm not." Wanda insisted. "I'm opening the door now." She pushed the toothpick into the small hole and heard the lock pop. She always loved picking locks, no matter how simple. She turned the doorknob and went into the room, where Phoebe was sitting in a corner, holding her knees to her chest. "You look insane sitting like that." Wanda remarked.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel better." Phoebe smiled a bit. "You're sure you're alone?"

"Yes." Wanda assured her. "What's the problem?"

"Keesha just blurted out that I like Ralphie," Phoebe explained, even though she hated saying it. "And I didn't want everyone to know."

"Well, the good news is that you don't have to tell him now." Wanda pointed out. "He already knows."

"I didn't have to tell him before." Phoebe replied.

"Well I may or may not have told Tim, so it was going to happen one way or another." Phoebe's green eyes widened in horror. "It just happened! It was all part of my master plan!"

"How could you do that to me?" Phoebe asked.

"I thought they already knew!" Wanda wasn't exactly lying.

"Well I told Ralphie that I liked Tim." Phoebe continued. "At the ballpark today."

"Way to go," Wanda nodded in approval. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

"Yeah." Phoebe looked at her feet. "I don't think I can look at him any more."

"Sure you can." Wanda assured her. "You just have to clear the air first."

"How?"

"Well, you could say 'So, you like me right? Let's go make the kisses!'" Wanda suggested.

"No way."

Wanda shrugged. "I know it's lame, but I wouldn't suggest it if it didn't work."

"I'm not saying anything like that." Phoebe insisted.

"You could always write him a note like in junior high with checkboxes." Wanda continued. "Or you could have me ask for you, but that's not going to work, because he already knows you like him…"

"I'd really rather just go home, get a summer job, and forget this happened." Phoebe looked up at Wanda.

"But why do that when you can take a risk and maybe have the best summer ever?" Wanda pointed out. "Huh? Doesn't that sound good?"

"I'd really rather not." Phoebe looked back at her Teva-clad feet.

"Don't make me make you talk to him." Wanda warned. "You won't like it. Remember how I pushed you into Arnold in seventh grade?"

"That was terrifying." Phoebe recalled the yearbook social where she'd been dying to get Arnold's signature but was afraid to ask until Wanda literally used Phoebe to knock him off his balance.

"And this will be so much worse, now that I've had years to hone my skills." Wanda promised.

"Fine." Phoebe sighed. "I'll talk to him, but I won't bring it up."

"Except he already knows, so you might as well say something." Wanda said persuasively.

"He already knows, it's his turn to say something." Phoebe tried. "I'll just say hi. When he runs away from me in disgust, you'll see…"

"Whatever, Pheebs." Wanda shook her head. "Didn't you guys spend like all day at the ballpark together?"

"So?" Phoebe looked at Wanda.

"He can't hate you after you did something that nice for him." Wanda reasoned. "In fact, he owes you a trip to the zoo now."

"Zoos are cruel." Phoebe remarked.

"Whatever. I just thought the animal shelter would be too depressing." Wanda smiled. "See? It'll be fine."

* * *

"I don't want to take her anywhere out of obligation, though," Ralphie said to Tim. 

"You do owe her, but didn't you guys have some connection while you were at the park?" Tim asked.

"I did talk to her about my dad." Ralphie mused. "And I don't do that with people."

"Seriously, what's the likelihood of Phoebe coming up to you and saying, 'So, Ralphie, Keesha beat me to telling you that I want you. Let's go out sometime.' Honestly?" Tim put his hands on his hips.

"You think Keesha's playing a trick on me?" Ralphie asked.

"No, I think you have to – where the hell did you get that idea?" Tim's train of thought derailed.

"I don't know, I just did." Ralphie shrugged. "She's wily."

"I still can't believe the indecency of some people." D.A. remarked to Arnold, glancing back at Tim.

"It was incredibly unsanitary." Arnold nodded. "And it's my uncle's condo."

"I know!" D.A. continued. "I mean, if it were somewhere else, like their own apartment…"

"Isn't it weird that we'll all be having apartments and stuff?" Arnold asked. "I mean, I remember when we were just kids."

"It seems like it hasn't been long, doesn't it?" D.A. smiled. "I can't believe how old we all are."

"But I'm kind of glad." Arnold put his arm around D.A.'s waist. "I mean, if we were still kids this would be kind of creepy."

"Really creepy." D.A. grinned. "I'm glad Carlos is getting better."

"We'll see if it lasts." Arnold said skeptically. "I think he's just pretending to change to get in Keesha's pants."

"Keesha isn't tricked that easily." D.A. remarked. "I guess we'll see."

"Okay, you're going to talk to him." Wanda reminded Phoebe as the two moved quickly toward the others.

"Yes." Phoebe was somewhat exasperated, but mostly anxious. "Because he owes me a trip to the animal shelter."

"Aww, you guys could get a puppy! That would be cute!" Wanda squealed.

"We're not getting a puppy." Phoebe looked at her sternly.

"It'd be like you were parents! You'd be the puppy's mom… ooh, what if you got a fluffy puppy?" Wanda continued thinking aloud. "Like my dog. She's fluffy."

"She's a living illustration of why novice breeders shouldn't breed." Phoebe corrected.

"She's cute!" Wanda argued.

"She's cute, she's just… weird-looking." Phoebe admitted.

"She's adorable." Wanda continued. "Oh look who it is! Hi Ralphie!"

"Hi." Ralphie looked warily and Wanda and uncomfortably at Phoebe.

"Tell him how you're going to be parents!" Wanda said enthusiastically.

"I told you, we're not going to get a puppy." Phoebe gritted her teeth.

"Wow, I was going to say…" Tim looked at Ralphie and raised his eyebrows. "I know you had fun at Dodger Stadium, but not _fun_..."

"You can shut up now." Ralphie said calmly. A moment of awkward silence ensued.

"Well, you two have a lot to talk about." Tim said, grabbing Wanda's arm.

"Don't wimp out!" Wanda hissed at Phoebe as she and Tim walked away.

"So…" Phoebe started, her voice cracking a little. She then got a brilliant idea. She would get Ralphie started about baseball. "Why do you like the Mets?"

"My mom does." Ralphie explained. "But it's mostly because my dad hated them. He was a Yankees fan."

"You don't have to talk about your dad." Phoebe said. "Not if you don't want to."

"I just felt so crappy after he left, you know?" Ralphie sat down on the sand and Phoebe followed suit. "He got me into Little League and everything, and I hated how much I loved baseball half the time."

"I'm sorry." Phoebe offered quietly.

"It's fine." Ralphie shrugged. "He's still my dad whether I love him or hate him. He's off in New York. I don't know what he's doing. I haven't heard from him in years. He didn't even acknowledge my graduation announcement."

"That's rough. I thought I had it bad when I realized that I was the only girl at school whose dad didn't tell her she was pretty." Phoebe looked at her toes. "I mean, he would, but he can't _see_me, so it's different. It's more obligatory."

"That would be weird." Ralphie stared at the waves coming in.

"But I'm glad I have a dad." Phoebe added quickly. "And at least your mom is awesome."

Ralphie laughed weakly. "Yeah, she's pretty… crazy."

"Speaking of crazy," Phoebe pointed at Carlos, who was running toward a man, practically screaming.

"What the hell is he doing?" Ralphie leaned a bit closer to Phoebe to get a closer look. "Is he attacking that man?"

"Carlos, STOP!" Keesha yelled.

"TONY DANZA!" Carlos tackled the man. "You're Tony Danza!"

"I think you broke my nose!" Tony Danza cried.

"But – you're Tony Danza! I broke Tony Danza's nose!" Carlos exclaimed proudly to the small crowd that was gathering.

"I'm not Tony Danza!" The man insisted. "Get off me!"

"Stop lying, I know who you are." Carlos smiled.

"Get off me!" The man yelled. "I think you broke my friggin' face!"

"No! I'd never do that! I love your face in a totally straight way!" Carlos insisted as he was dragged off the man.

"What's going on here?" A police officer asked.

"This guy assaulted me!" "Tony Danza" pointed at Carlos. "He's crazy! He thinks I'm Tony Danza!"

"I love you, Tony!" Carlos cried, lunging at the man.

"I think we ought to take him in." One officer said to his partner.

"Please, you don't have to do that." Keesha pleaded.

"I think we do, miss." The police officer began reading Carlos the Miranda Rights.

"Tony!" Carlos cried at the man as he was taken off the beach.

* * *

"A night in prison will get me much girls." Keesha mocked Carlos, who was behind bars at the police station. "What are your parents going to say?" 

"They don't have to contact my parents. I'm not a minor." Carlos beamed. "Besides, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"You're an idiot." Keesha shook her head.

"I might be in the news!" Carlos exclaimed.

"What?" Wanda asked. "You're going to be _famous_?"

"Damn straight." Carlos beamed. "You know what this mean_s_? It means I win!"

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Chapter title is, of course, a misheard lyric of "Tiny Dancer," by Elton John.

"Much girls" is a paraphrase from "Teen Girl Squad."

Gangsters do indeed listen to Fleetwood Mac in _Goodfellas._ They listen to "Go Your Own Way," but Ralphie's CD had "Hold Me" on it. Both songs include the cowbell.

"Eyes Without a Face" is a Billy Idol song that I don't own. I also thought the lyrics were "got no human race" until I looked them up.

"At least he didn't run screaming" may or may not be based on a true story, as is the story about chicken pox and getting pushed into an object of affection at a yearbook social.

Wanda's dog, in my opinion, is a Cocker Spaniel/Golden Retriever mix, one of the weirdest mixes ever. It can be seen in "Under Construction."


End file.
